LIBRARY    ,-• 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

Class 


RECOLLECTIONS 


A  PRIVATE   SOLDIER 


IN  THE 


ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC 


BY 


FRANK  WILKESON 


NEW  YORK  &  LONDON 

G.    P.    PUTNAM'S    SONS 


1887 


COPYRIGHT  BY 

FRANK  WILKESON 
1886 


Press  of 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
New  York 


CONTENTS. 

FROM  BARRACKS  TO  FRONT  .  .  .  .  .  .  i 

IN  CAMP  AT  BRANDY  STATION 21 

MARCHING  TO  THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  WILDERNESS  .  .  42 
THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  WILDERNESS  .  .'  *  -55 
FIGHTING  AROUND  SPOTTSYLVANIA  ...  .  .81 
THE  FLANK  MOVEMENT  FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA  TO  THE 

NORTH  ANNA  RIVER     .        .        .        .        .        .      97 

STUDYING  CONFEDERATE  EARTHWORKS  AT  NORTH 

ANNA no 

THE  BATTLE  OF  COLD  HARBOR  .  .  .  .  124 

FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG  .  .  .  .153 

CONDITION  OF  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC  AFTER 

PETERSBURG  .         .        .        .,'-'•*        .        .        .     179 

How  MEN  DIE  IN  BATTLE    .        .        ...        .         .     197 

EARLY  IN  FRONT  OF  WASHINGTON        .  •      .        .        .     208 
THE  MILITARY  PRISON  AT  ELMIRA       ...        .     220 

IN  THE  SOUTHWEST  .  ...  .  ,  '.  .231 


224131 


PREFACE. 

THE  history  of  the  fighting  to  suppress  the 
slave-holders'  rebellion,  thus  far  written, 
has  been  the  work  of  commanding  generals.  The 
private  soldiers  who  won  the  battles,  when  they 
were  given  a  chance  to  win  them,  and  lost  them 
through  the  ignorance  and  incapacity  of  com 
manders,  have  scarcely  begun  to  write  the  history 
from  their  point  of  view.  The  two  will  be  found 
to  differ  materially.  The  epauletted  history  has 
been  largely  inspired  by  vanity  or  jealousy,  sav 
ing  and  excepting  forever  the  immortal  record, 
Grant's  dying  gift  to  his  countrymen,  which  is  as 
modest  as  it  is  truthful,  and  as  just  as  it  is  modest. 
Most  of  this  war  history  has  been  written  to 
repair  damaged  or  wholly  ruined  military  repu 
tations.  It  has  been  made  additionally  un 
trustworthy  by  the  jealousy  which  seeks  to 
belittle  the  work  of  others,  or  to  falsify  or  ob 
scure  it,  in  order  to  render  more  conspicu 
ous  the  achievements  of  the  historians.  The 
men  who  carried  the  muskets,  served  the  guns, 


vi  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

and  rode  in  the  saddle  had  no  military  reputa 
tions  to  defend  or  create,  and  they  brought  not 
out  of  the  war  professional  jealousy  of  their 
comrades.  They  and  they  alone  can  supple 
ment  the  wonderful  contribution  made  by  Grant 
to  the  history  of  the  struggle  to  suppress  the 
rebellion.  Who  beside  the  enlisted  men  can  tell 
how  the  fierce  Confederates  looked  and  fought 
behind  their  earthworks  and  in  the  open  ;  how 
the  heroic  soldiers  of  the  impoverished  South 
were  clothed,  armed,  and  fed  ?  Who  beside  our 
enlisted  men  can  or  will  tell  their  countrymen 
how  the  volunteers  who  saved  the  republic 
lived  in  camp  ;  lived  in  the  field ;  on  the 
march  ;  what  they  talked  about  ;  how  they 
criticised  the  campaigns,  and  criticised  their 
officers  and  commanders  ;  how  oft  they  hun 
gered  and  thirsted  ;  how,  through  parts  of  cam 
paigns,  and  through  entire  campaigns,  they 
slept  unsheltered  on  the  ground,  and  too  often 
in  snow  or  mud  ;  how  they  fought  (honor  and 
glory  for  ever  and  ever  to  these  matchless  war 
riors  !  )  and  how  they  died  ? 

I  was  one  of  these  private  soldiers.  As  one 
of  them,  I  make  this  my  contribution  to  the 
true  history  of  the  war.  And  I  call  on  those 
of  my  comrades  in  the  ranks  who  yet  survive, 


PREFACE.  Vll 

in  whatever  part  of  the  country  they  served,  to 
make  haste  to  leave  behind  them  as  their  con 
tributions,  what  they  actually  saw  and  did,  and 
what  their  commanders  refused,  or  neglected  or 
failed  to  do.  Very  many  of  you  were  the  equals, 
and  not  a  few  of  you  were  the  superiors,  of  your 
officers  in  intelligence,  courage,  and  military 
ability.  Your  judgment  about  the  conduct  of 
the  war,  by  reason  of  the  vastness  of  your  num 
ber,  will  have  the  force  of  public  opinion.  That 
is  almost  invariably  right.  The  opinion  of  the 
rank  and  file  of  an  army  of  Americans  will  be 
equally  right.  The  grumbling  of  a  single  soldier 
at  a  camp  fire  may  be  unreasonable  and  his 
criticism  abusive.  The  criticism  of  100,000 
American  soldiers  will  be  absolute  truth. 

I  am  conscious  of  imperfect  performance  of 
the  task  I  set  to  myself  in  the  writing  of  this 
book.  In  a  later  edition  I  hope  to  have  the 
opportunity  to  correct  my  short-coming.  Mod 
eration  and  forbearance  of  statement  and 
opinion  have  been  my  error.  Occasionally  I 
ceased  to  write  as  a  soldier  in  the  ranks.  Too 
frequently  I  wrote  as  a  generous  narrator  a 
quarter  of  a  century  after  the  events.  I  ought 
to  have  written  from  title-page  to  cover  as  if  I 
were  still  in  the  ranks.  And  the  limited  com- 


viii         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVA  TE. 

pass  of  the  book  forbade  the  consideration  of 
two  subjects  about  which  I  feel  deeply,  and 
which  I  propose  hereafter  to  treat  with  what 
strength  I  possess.  For  much  thinking  over 
my  experience  as  a  private  in  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  has  confirmed  me  in  the  belief  I  then 
entertained,  that  the  two  capital  errors  in  the 
conduct  of  the  war  on  the  Union  side  were  ; 

First.  The  calling  for  volunteers  to  suppress 
the  rebellion,  instead  of  at  the  outset  creating 
armies  by  drawing  soldiers  ratably  and  by  lot 
from  the  able-bodied  population,  between  the 
ages  of  twenty  and  forty,  of  all  the  free  States 
and  territories. 

Second.  The  officering  of  the  commands  in 
the  various  armies  with  West  Point  graduates 
by  preference,  on  the  assumption  that  they 
knew  the  art  of  war  and  were  soldiers,  and 
were  therefore  the  fittest  to  command  soldiers. 

It  is  my  purpose  in  the  future  edition  of  this 
book  to  show  how  the  resort  to  volunteering 
the  unprincipled  dodge  of  cowardly  politicians, 
ground  up  the  choicest  seed-corn  of  the  nation  ; 
how  it  consumed  the  young,  the  patriotic,  the 
intelligent,  the  generous,  the  brave ;  how  it 
wasted  the  best  moral,  social,  and  political  ele 
ments  of  the  republic,  leaving  the  cowards, 


PREFACE.  IX 

shirks,  egotists,  and  money-makers  to  stay  at 
home  and  procreate  their  kind  ;  how  the  Lex 
ingtons  being  away  in  the  war,  the  production 
of  Lexington  colts  ceased. 

Again,  I  carried  out  with  me  from  the  ranks, 
not  only  the  feeling,  but  the  knowledge  derived 
from  my  own  experience  and  from  the  current 
history  of  the  war,  that  the  military  salvation 
of  this  country  requires  that  the  West  Point 
Academy  be  destroyed.  Successful  command 
ers  of  armies  are  not  made.  Like  great  poets 
they  are  born.  Men  like  Caesar,  Marlborough, 
Napoleon,  and  Grant  are  not  the  products  of 
schools.  They  -  occur  sparingly  in  the  course 
of  nature.  West  Point  turns  out  shoulder- 
strapped  office-holders.  It  cannot  produce 
soldiers  ;  for  these  are,  as  I  claim,  born,  and  not 
made.  And  it  is  susceptible  of  demonstration 
that  the  almost  ruinous  delay  in  suppressing 
the  rebellion  and  restoring  the  Union  ;  the 
deadly  failure  of  campaigns  year  after  year ; 
the  awful  waste  of  the  best  soldiers  the  world 
has  seen  ;  and  the  piling  up  of  the  public  debt 
into  the  billions,  was  wholly  due  to  West  Point 
influence  and  West  Point  commanders.  They 
were  commanders,  but  they  were  not  soldiers. 

FRANK  WILKESON. 


RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A  PRIVATE. 


I. 

FROM   BARRACKS   TO    FRONT. 

I  WAS  a  private  soldier  in  the  war  to  sup 
press  the  rebellion.  I  write  of  the  life  of 
a  private  soldier.  I  gloss  over  nothing.  The 
enlisted  men,  of  whom  I  was  one,  composed 
the  army.  We  won  or  lost  the  battles.  I  tell 
how  we  lived,  how  we  fought,  what  we  talked 
of  o'  nights,  of  our  aspirations  and  fears.  I  do 
not  claim  to  have  seen  all  of  Grant's  last  cam 
paign  ;  but  what  I  saw  I  faithfully  record. 

The  war  fever  seized  me  in  1863.  All  the 
summer  and  fall  I  had  fretted  and  burned  to 
be  off.  That  winter,  and  before  I  was  sixteen 
years  old,  I  ran  away  from  my  father's  high- 
lying  Hudson  River  valley  farm.  I  went  to 
Albany  and  enlisted  in  the  Eleventh  New  York 
Battery,  then  at  the  front  in  Virginia,  and  was 


2  RECOLLECT.TQHS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

promptly  sent  out  to  the  penitentiary  building. 
There,  to  my  utter  astonishment,  I  found  eight 
hundred  or  one  thousand  ruffians,  closely 
guarded  by  heavy  lines  of  sentinels,  who 
paced  to  and  fro,  day  and  night,  rifle  in  hand, 
to  keep  them  from  running  away.  When  I 
entered  the  barracks  these  recruits  gathered 
around  me  and  asked,  "  How  much  bounty 
did  you  get  ?  "  "  How  many  times  have  you 
jumped  the  bounty?"  I  answered  that  I  had 
not  bargained  for  any  bounty,  that  I  had  never 
jumped  a  bounty,  and  that  I  had  enlisted  to  go 
to  the  front  and  fight.  I  was  instantly  assailed 
with  abuse.  Irreclaimable  blackguards,  thieves, 
and  ruffians  gathered  in  a  boisterous  circle 
around  me  and  called  me  foul  names.  I  was 
robbed  while  in  these  barracks  of  all  I  pos 
sessed — a  pipe,  a  piece  of  tobacco  and  a  knife. 
I  remained  in  this  nasty  prison  for  a  month.  I 
became  thoroughly  acquainted  with  my  com 
rades.  A  recruit's  social  standing  in  the  bar 
racks  was  determined  by  the  acts  of  villany  he 
had  performed,  supplemented  by  the  number 
of  times  he  had  jumped  the  bounty.  The  so 
cial  standing  of  a  hard-faced,  crafty  pickpocket, 
who  had  jumped  the  bounty  in  say  half  a  dozen 
cities,  was  assured.  He  shamelessly  boasted  of 


FROM  BARRACKS  TO  FRONT.  3 

his  rascally  agility.  Less  active  bounty-jump 
ers  looked  up  to  him  as  to  a  leader.  He  com 
manded  their  profound  respect.  When  he 
talked,  men  gathered  around  him  in  crowds 
and  listened  attentively  to  words  of  wisdom 
concerning  bounty-jumping  that  dropped  from 
his  tobacco-stained  lips.  His  right  to  occupy 
the  most  desirable  bunk,  or  to  stand  at  the  head 
of  the  column  when  we  prepared  to  march  to 
the  kitchen  for  our  rations,  was  undisputed.  If 
there  was  a  man  in  all  that  shameless  crew  who 
had  enlisted  from  patriotic  motives,  I  did  not 
see  him.  There  was  not  a  man  of  them  who 
was  not  eager  to  run  away.  Not  a  man  who 
did  not  quake  when  he  thought  of  the  front. 
Almost  to  a  man  they  were  bullies  and  cow 
ards,  and  almost  to  a  man  they  belonged  to 
the  criminal  classes. 

I  had  been  in  this  den  of  murderers  and 
thieves  for  a  week,  when  my  uncle  William 
Wilkeson  of  Buffalo  found  me.  My  absence 
from  the  farm  had  caused  a  search  of  the  New 
York  barracks  to  be  made  for  me.  My  uncle, 
finding  that  I  was  resolute  in  my  intention  to 
go  to  the  front,  and  that  I  would  not  accept  a 
discharge,  boy  as  I  was,  did  the  best  thing  he 
could  for  me,  and  that  was  to  vouch  for  me  to 


4  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

the  major,  named  Van  Rensselaer,  I  think,  who 
was  in  charge  of  the  barracks.  He  knew  my 
family,  and  when  he  heard  that  I  had  run  away 
from  home  to  enlist,  and  that  I  would  not 
accept  a  discharge,  he  gave  me  the  freedom  of 
the  city.  I  had  a  pass  which  I  left  in  charge  of 
the  officer  of  the  guard  when  not  using  it,  be 
cause  I  was  afraid  I  would  be  robbed  of  it  if  I 
took  it  into  the  barracks.  The  fact  of  my 
having  a  pass  became  known  to  the  bounty- 
jumpers,  and  I  was  repeatedly  offered  large 
sums  of  money  for  it.  In  the  room  in  which  I 
slept,  a  gang  of  roughs  made  up  a  pot  of  $1,700, 
counting  out  the  money  before  me,  and  offered 
it  to  me  if  I  would  go  out  and  at  night  put  my 
pass  in  a  crack  between  two  designated  boards 
that  formed  a  portion  of  a  high  fence  that  sur 
rounded  the  penitentiary  grounds.  I  refused 
to  enter  into  the  scheme,  and  they  attacked 
me  savagely,  and  would  have  beaten  me,  per 
haps  to  death,  if  the  guards,  hearing  the  noise, 
had  not  rushed  in.  Of  course  they  swore  that 
I  had  madly  assaulted  them  with  a  heavy  bed 
slat,  and,  of  course,  I  was  punished,  and,  equally 
of  course,  I  kept  my  mouth  shut  as  to  the  real 
cause  of  the  row,  for  fear  that  I  would  be  mur 
dered  as  I  slept  if  I  exposed  them.  In  front  of 


FROM  BARRACKS  TO  FRONT.  5 

the  barracks  stood  a  high  wooden  horse,  made 
by  sticking  four  long  poles  into  large  holes 
bored  into  a  smooth  log,  and  then  standing  it 
upright.  Two  ladders,  one  at  each  end,  led  up 
to  the  round  body  of  the  wooden  steed.  A 
placard,  on  which  was  printed  in  letters  four 
inches  long  the  word  "  Fighting,"  was  fastened 
on  my  back.  Then  I  was  led  to  the  rear  ladder 
and  told  to  mount  the  horse  and  to  shin  along 
to  the  other  end,  and  to  sit  there  until  I  was 
released.  The  sentinel  tapped  his  rifle  signifi 
cantly,  and  said,  earnestly :  "  It  is  loaded.  If 
you  dismount  before  you  are  ordered  to,  I  shall 
kill  you."  I  believed  he  meant  what  he  said, 
and  I  did  not  get  off  till  ordered  to  dismount. 
For  the  first  hour  I  rather  enjoyed  the  ride  ; 
then  my  legs  grew  heavy,  my  knees  pained 
dreadfully,  and  I  grew  feverish  and  was  very 
thirsty.  Other  men  came  out  of  the  barracks 
and  climbed  aloft  to  join  in  the  pleasure  of 
wooden  horseback  riding.  They  laughed  at 
first,  but  soon  began  to  swear  in  low  tones,  and 
to  curse  the  days  on  which  they  were  born.  In 
the  course  of  three  hours  the  log  filled  up,  and 
I  dismounted  to  make  room  for  a  fresh  offender. 
The  placard  was  taken  from  my  back,  and  I 
was  gruffly  ordered  to  "  get  out  of  this."  I 


6  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

staggered  back  a  few  yards,  stooped  to  rub  my 
lame  knees,  and  looked  at  the  gang  who  were 
sadly  riding  the  wooden  horse.  Various  words 
were  printed  on  the  cards  that  were  fastened  to 
their  backs,  but  more  than  half  of  them  an- 
nounced  that  the  bearers  were  thieves. 

On  my  urgent  solicitation  Major  Van  Rens- 
selaer  promised  to  ship  me  with  the  first  de 
tachment  of  recruits  going  to  the  front.  One 
cold  afternoon,  directly  after  the  ice  had  gone 
out  of  the  Hudson  River,  we  were  ordered  out 
of  the  barracks.  We  were  formed  into  ranks, 
and  stood  in  a  long,  curved  line  1,000  rascals 
strong.  We  were  counted,  as  was  the  daily 
custom,  to  see  if  any  of  the  patriots  had 
escaped.  Then,  after  telling  us  to  step  four 
paces  to  the  front  as  our  names  were  called, 
the  names  of  the  men  who  were  to  form  the 
detachment  were  shouted  by  a  sergeant,  and 
we  stepped  to  the  front,  one  after  another,  un 
til  600  of  us  stood  in  ranks.  We  were  marched 
to  the  barracks,  and  told  to  pack  our  knapsacks 
as  we  were  to  march  at  once.  The  400  recruits 
who  had  not  been  selected  were  carefully 
guarded  on  the  ground,  so  as  to  prevent  their 
mingling  with  us.  If  that  had  happened,  some 
of  the  recruits  who  had  been  chosen  would 


FROM  BARRACKS  TO  FRONT.  *J 

have  failed  to  appear  at  the  proper  time.  The 
idea  was  that  if  we  were  kept  separate,  all  the 
men  in  the  barracks,  all  outside  of  the  men 
grouped  under  guard,  would  have  to  go.  Be 
fore  I  left  the  barracks  I  saw  the  guards  roughly 
haul  straw-littered,  dust-coated  men  out  of  mat- 
resses,  which  they  had  cut  open  and  crawled 
into  to  hide.  Other  men  were  jerked  out  of 
the  water-closets.  Still  others  were  drawn  by 
the  feet  from  beneath  bunks.  One  man,  who 
had  burrowed  into  the  contents  of  a  water-tight 
swill-box,  which  stood  in  the  hall  and  into 
which  we  threw  our  waste  food  and  coffee  slops, 
was  fished  out,  covered  with  coffee  grounds  and 
bits  of  bread  and  shreds  of  meat,  and  kicked 
down  stairs  and  out  of  the  building.  Ever  after 
I  thought  of  that  soldier  as  the  hero  of  the 
swill-tub.  Cuffed,  prodded  with  bayonets,  and 
heartily  cursed,  we  fell  into  line  in  front  of  the 
barracks.  An  officer  stepped  in  front  of  us  and 
said  in  a  loud  voice  that  any  man  who  at 
tempted  to  escape  would  be  shot:  A  double 
line  of  guards  quickly  took  their  proper  posi 
tions  around  us.  We  were  faced  to  the  right 
and  marched  through  a  room,  where  the  men 
were  paid  their  bounties.  Some  men  received 
$500,  others  less  ;  but  I  heard  of  no  man  who 


8  RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PRIVATE. 

received  less  than  $400.  I  got  nothing.  As 
the  men  passed  through  the  room  they  were 
formed  into  column  by  fours.  When  all  the 
recruits  had  been  paid,  and  the  column  formed, 
we  started  to  march  into  Albany,  guarded  by  a 
double  line  of  sentinels.  Long  before  we  ar 
rived  at  State  Street  three  recruits  attempted 
to  escape.  They  dropped  their  knapsacks  and 
fled  wildly.  Crack !  crack !  crack !  a  dozen 
rifles  rang  out,  and  what  had  been  three  men 
swiftly  running  were  three  bloody  corpses.  The 
dead  patriots  lay  by  the  roadside  as  we  marched 
by.  We  marched  down  State  Street,  turned  to 
the  right  at  Broadway,  and  marched  down  that 
street  to  the  steamboat  landing.  Previous  to 
my  enlistment  I  had  imagined  that  the  popu 
lation  of  Albany  would  line  the  sidewalks  to 
see  the  defenders  of  the  nation  march  proudly 
by,  bound  for  the  front,  and  that  we  would  be 
cheered,  and  would  unbend  sufficiently  to  ac 
cept  floral  offerings  from  beautiful  maidens. 
How  was  it  ?  No  exultant  cheers  arose  from 
the  column.  The  people  who  saw  us  did  not 
cheer.  The  faces  of  the  recruits  plainly  ex 
pressed  the  profound  disgust  they  felt  at  the 
disastrous  outcome  of  what  had  promised  to  be 
a  remunerative  financial  enterprise.  Small  boys 


FROM  BARRACKS  TO  FRONT.  9 

derided  us.  Mud  balls  were  thrown  at  us. 
One  small  lad,  who  was  greatly  excited  by  the 
unwonted  spectacle,  rushed  to  a  street  corner, 
and  after  placing  his  hands  to  his  mouth,  yelled 
to  a  distant  and  loved  comrade:  "  Hi,  Johnnie, 
come  see  de  bounty  -  jumpers !"  He  was 
promptly  joined  by  an  exasperating,  red-headed, 
sharp-tongued  little  wretch,  whom  I  desired  to 
destroy  long  before  we  arrived  at  the  steam 
boat  landing.  Men  and -women  openly  laughed 
at  us.  Fingers,  indicative  of  derision,  were 
pointed  at  us.  Yes,  a  large  portion  of  the 
populace  of  Albany  gathered  together  to  see 
us ;  but  they  were  mostly  young  males,  called 
guttersnipes.  They  jeered  us,  and  were  ex 
ceedingly  loth  to  leave  us.  It  was  as  though 
the  congress  of  American  wonders  were  parad 
ing  in  the  streets  preparatory  to  aerial  flights 
under  tented  canvas. 

Once  on  the  steamboat,  we  were  herded  on 
the  lower  deck,  where  freight  is  usually  carried, 
like  cattle.  No  one  dared  to  take  off  his  knap 
sack  for  fear  it  would  be  stolen.  Armed  sen 
tinels  stood  at  the  openings  in  the  vessel's  sides 
out  of  which  gangplanks  were  thrust.  Others 
were  stationed  in  the  bows ;  others  in  the  dark 
narrow  passage-ways  where  the  shaft  turns ; 


10          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

still  others  were  on  the  decks.  We  were  hemmed 
in  by  a  wall  of  glistening  steel.  "  Stand  back, 
stand  back,  damn  you  !  "  was  the  only  remark 
the  alert-eyed,  stern-faced  sentinels  uttered,  and 
the  necessity  of  obeying  that  command  was 
impressed  on  us  by  menacing  bayonets. 
Whiskey,  guard-eluding  whiskey,  got  in.  Bot 
tles,  flasks,  canteens,  full  of  whiskey,  circulated 
freely  among  us,  and  many  men  got  drunk. 
There  was  an  orgie  on  the  North  River  steamer 
that  night,  but  comparatively  a  decent  one.  In 
spite  of  the  almost  certain  death  sure  to  ensue 
if  a  man  attempted  to  escape,  two  men  jumped 
overboard.  I  saw  one  of  these  take  off  his 
knapsack,  loosen  his  overcoat  and  then  sit  down 
on  his  knapsack.  He  drew  a  whiskey  flask  from 
an  inner  pocket  and  repeatedly  stimulated  his 
courage.  He  watched  the  guards  who  stood  by 
the  opening  in  the  vessel's  side  intently.  At 
last  they  turned  their  heads  for  an  instant.  The 
man  sprang  to  his  feet,  dropped  his  overcoat 
and  ran  to  the  opening  and  jumped  far  out  into 
the  cold  waters  of  the  river.  Instantly  the 
guards  began  to  fire.  Above  us,  in  front  of  us, 
at  our  sides,  behind  us,  wherever  guards  were 
stationed,  there  rifles  cracked.  But  it  was  ex 
ceeding  dark  on  the  water,  and  I  believe  that 


FROM  BARRACKS  TO  FRONT.  II 

the  deserter  escaped  safely.  Early  in  the  morn 
ing,  before  it  was  light,  I  again  heard  firing.  I 
was  told  that  another  recuit  had  jumped  over 
board  and  had  been  killed. 

In  this  steamboat  were  two  mysterious  men 
clad  in  soldiers'  clothing,  whom  I  had  not  seen 
until  after  we  left  Albany.  Their  appearance 
was  so  striking,  they  were  so  alert  and  quick- 
eyed,  so  out  of  place  among  us,  that  my  atten 
tion  was  attracted  to  them.  One  of  these  men 
was  an  active,  trim  built,  dark-eyed,  black- 
haired,  handsome  fellow  of  25  years.  The  other 
was  a  stocky,  red-faced  blonde  of  about  30. 
They  moved  quickly  among  the  recruits.  They 
made  pleasant,  cheerful  remarks  to  almost  every 
man  on  the  steamboat.  They  told  stories 
which  were  greatly  enjoyed  by  the  recruits  who 
heard  them.  "  Where  did  those  two  men  join 
us  ?  Where  did  they  come  from,  and  who  are 
they  ?"  were  questions  I  musingly  asked  my 
self  over  and  over  and  over  again,  as  I  sat  on 
my  knapsack  in  a  corner.  Finally  I  walked  to 
a  guard  and  asked  who  they  were.  He  eyed  me 
suspiciously  for  an  instant,  and  then  furiously 
answered :  "  Stand  back,  you  bounty-jumping 
cur !  "  and  he  lunged  at  me  with  his  bayonet  as 
though  to  thrust  me  through.  I  stood  back, 


12          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE 

and  then  I  sat  down  on  my  knapsack  in  a  cor 
ner  and  wondered  musingly  if  I  were  a  patriot 
or  simply  a  young  fool. 

Morning  came,  and  we  disembarked  in  New 
York,  and  were  marched,  still  heavily  guarded, 
to  the  low,  white  barracks,  which  then  stood 
where  the  post-office  now  stands.  There  we 
were  securely  penned  and  decently  fed.  The 
men  fretted  and  fumed,  and  burned  to  escape. 
Many  of  them  had  previously  jumped  bounties 
in  New  York.  They  knew  the  slums  of  the 
city.  They  knew  where  to  hide  in  safety. 
Dozens  of  them  said  that  if  they  could  get  out 
of  the  barracks  they  would  be  safe.  But  they 
could  not  get  out.  This  time  they  were  going 
to  the  front.  The  officers  and  men,  in  whose 
charge  we  were,  were  resolute  in  their  intention 
to  deliver  one  consignment  of  bounty-jumpers 
to  the  commands  they  belonged  to.  That 
afternoon  five  days'  cooked  rations  were  issued 
to  us,  and  we  were  escorted  by  a  heavy  double 
line  of  guards  down  Broadway  to  the  Battery. 
There  we  turned  to  march  along  a  street  that 
led  to  a  dock  where  an  ocean  steamer  lay.  The 
head  of  the  column  was  opposite  the  dock,  when 
four  recruits  shed  their  knapsacks  and  ran  for 
the  freedom  they  coveted.  One  of  these  men 


FROM  BARRACKS  TO  FRONT.  13 

marched  two  files  in  front  of  me.  He  dashed 
past  the  guard,  who  walked  by  my  side,  at  the 
top  of  his  speed.  Not  a  word  was  said  to  him. 
The  column  halted  at  command.  The  guard 
near  me  turned  on  his  heels  quickly,  threw  his 
heavy  rifle  to  his  shoulder,  covered  the  running 
man,  and  shot  him  dead.  Two  of  the  remain 
ing  three  fell  dead  as  other  rifles  cracked.  The 
fourth  man  ran  through  the  shower  of  balls 
safely.  I  thought  he  was  going  to  escape  ;  but 
a  tall,  lithe  officer  ran  after  him,  pistol  in  hand. 
He  overtook  the  fugitive  just  as  he  was  about 
to  turn  a  street  corner.  He  made  no  attempt 
to  arrest  the  deserter,  but  placed  his  pistol  to 
the  back  of  the  runaway's  head  and  blew  his 
brains  out  as  he  ran.  The  dead  man  fell  in  a 
pile  at  the  base  of  a  lamp-post.  That  ended 
all  attempts  to  escape.  We  marched  on  board 
the  steamer,  a  propeller,  and  descended  narrow 
stairs  to  between  decks,  where  the  light  was 
dim  and  the  air  heavy  with  a  smell  as  of  damp 
sea-weed.  There  were  three  large  hatches, 
freight  hatches  probably,  in  the  deck  above  us, 
through  which  the  heavy,  cold,  outside  air  sank, 
and  through  which  three  systems  of  draughty, 
sneeze-provoking  ventilation  were  established 
as  soon  as  the  air  in  the  hold  became  heated. 


14          RECOLLECTION'S  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

Tobacco  smoke  arose  from  hundreds  of  pipes 
and  cheap  cigars,  and  the  air  grew  hazy.  At 
short  distances  the  forms  of  men  were  indis 
tinct  and  phantom-like.  In  this  space  were 
about  600  men.  False  history  and  dishonest 
Congressmen  who  desire  to  secure  re-election 
by  gifts  of  public  money  and  property  to  voters, 
say  they  were  brave  Northern  youth  going  to 
the  defence  of  their  country.  I,  who  know, 
say  they  were  as  arrant  a  gang  of  cowards, 
thieves,  murderers,  and  blacklegs  as  were  ever 
gathered  inside  the  Avails  of  Newgate  or  Sing 
Sing. 

Money  was  plentiful  and  whiskey  entered 
through  the  steamer's  ports,  and  the  guards 
drove  a  profitable  business  in  selling  canteens 
full  of  whiskey  at  $5  each.  Promptly  the  hold 
was  transformed  into  a  floating  hell.  The  air 
grew  denser  and  denser  with  tobacco  smoke. 
Drunken  men  staggered  to  and  fro.  They 
yelled  and  sung  and  danced,  and  then  they 
fought  and  fought  again.  Rings  were  formed, 
and  within  them  men  pounded  each  other 
fiercely.  They  rolled  on  the  slimy  floor  and 
howled  and  swore  and  bit  and  gouged,  and  the 
delighted  spectators  cheered  them  to  redouble 
their  efforts.  Out  of  these  fights  others  sprang 


FROM  BARRACKS  TO  FRONT.  15 

into  life,  and  from  these  still  others.  The  noise 
was  horrible.  The  wharf  became  crowded  with 
men  eager  to  know  what  was  going  on  in  the 
vessel.  A  tug  was  sent  for,  and  we  were  towed 
into  the  river,  and  there  the  anchors  were 
dropped.  Guards  ran  in  on  us  and  beat  men 
with  clubbed  rifles,  and  were  in  turn  attacked. 
We  drove  them  out  of  the  hold.  The  hatch  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs  was  closed  and  locked.  The 
recruits  were  maddened  with  whiskey.  Dozens 
of  men  ran  a  muck,  striking  every  one  they  came 
to,  and  being  struck  and  kicked  and  stamped 
on  in  return.  The  ventilation  hatches  were 
surrounded  by  steirufaced  sentinels,  who  gazed 
into  the  gloom  below  and  warned  us  not  to  try 
to  get  out  by  climbing  through  the  hatches. 
Men  sprang  high  in  the  air  and  clutched  the 
hatch  railings,  and  had  their  hands  smashed 
with  musket  butts.  Sentinels  paced  to  and 
fro  along  the  vessel's  deck,  and  called  loudly  to 
all  row-boats  to  keep  off  or  they  would  be  fired 
upon.  They  did  not  intend  that  any  fresh  sup 
plies  of  whiskey  should  be  brought  to  us.  The 
prisoners  in  this  floating  hell  were  then  told  to 
"  go  it,"  and  they  went  it.  We  had  been 
searched  for  arms  before  we  entered  the  bar 
racks  at  Albany.  The  more  decent  and  quiet 


1 6          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

of  us  had  no  means  of  killing  the  drunken 
brutes  who  pressed  on  us.  There  was  not  a 
club  or  a  knife  or  an  iron  bolt  that  we  could 
lay  our  hands  to.  I  fought,  and  got  licked  ; 
fought  again,  and  won  ;  and  for  the  third  time 
faced  my  man,  and  got  knocked  stiff  in  two 
seconds.  It  was  a  scene  to  make  a  devil  howl 
with  delight.  The  light  grew  dimmer  and  dim 
mer,  and  then  the  interior  of  the  hold  was 
dark,  except  such  portions  as  were  dimly  lighted 
by  the  bars  of  light  that  shot  through  the 
ports  and  that  which  was  reflected  down  the 
hatches  in  square  columns.  We  fought  and 
howled  and  swore  with  rage  and  pain.  Through 
it  all  the  smell  was  overpowering.  The  deadly, 
penetrating  odors  of  ulcerous  men,  who  suf 
fered  from  unnamable  diseases,  of  stale  tobacco- 
smoke,  the  sickening  fumes  of  dead  whiskey, 
and  the  smell  of  many  unclean  ruffians  made 
the  air  heavy  with  a  horrible  stench.  Many 
recruits  lost  their  bounty  money.  They  were 
robbed  and  beaten  almost  to  death.  Exhaus 
tion  quieted  the  devils  down  during  the  night, 
and  then  we  slept  on  the  filthy  floor.  There 
was  not  a  bunk  in  the  entire  hold.  The  next 
morning  we  awoke  with  sore  heads  and  faint 
stomachs,  and,  under  orders,  washed  out  the 


FROM  BARRACKS  TO  FRONT.  I/ 

vast  room  as  well  as  we  could.  We  remained 
in  New  York  harbor  for  two  days,  waiting  for 
the  officer  who  had  killed  the  runaway  to  be 
tried  and  acquitted.  During  the  delay  the 
guards  refused  to  allow  a  row-boat  to  come  near 
us.  Then  we  started  for  Alexandria,  in  Vir 
ginia. 

Shortly  after  we  had  begun  to  steam  for  the 
sea  I  saw  the  two  alert-eyed  recruits,  who  had 
attracted  my  attention  when  we  were  on  the 
Hudson  River  steamboat,  in  the  hold  with  us. 
I  am  positive  that  they  were  not  with  us  while 
we  lay  in  New  York  harbor.  They  walked 
among  us  for  a  couple  of  hours,  talking  pleas 
antly.  The  yoanger  of  the  twain  inquired 
kindly  as  to  how  I  got  my  face  pounded,  and 
he  got  me  a  bowl  of  clean  water  to  bathe  it  in. 
Toward  noon  they  produced  chuck-luck  cloths 
and  dice  boxes,  and  furious  gambling  began. 
I  was  the  only  man  on  board  who  was  not 
bounty  paid  or  laden.  I  had  but  $10,  which 
my  father  had  given  to  me  when  I  was  in  the 
New  York  barracks,  so  I  could  not  join  in  the 
sport.  I  have  seen  gambling — and  wild,  reck 
less  gambling  too — in  many  mining  camps,  and 
in  towns  where  Texas  cattle  were  sold,  and  in 
new  railroad  towns  beyond  the  Missouri ;  but 


1 8          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

never  since  the  war  closed  have  I  seen  such 
reckless  gambling  as  went  on  day  and  night  in 
this  vessel.  Men  crowded  around  the  brace 
games,  and  speedily  lost  their  bounties.  Then 
the  losers  would  boldly,  in  broad  daylight,  rob 
their  comrades.  I  saw  gangs  of  robbers  knock 
men  down  and  go  through  their  pockets,  and 
unbuckle  money  belts  from  their  waists  ;  and  if 
they  protested,  their  cries  were  silenced  with 
boot  heels  stamped  into  their  faces. 

By  the  time  this  floating  hell  and  its  cargo  of 
cowardly  devils  had  got  into  Chesapeake  Bay, 
the  two  alert-eyed  gamblers  possessed  about  all 
the  money  the  six  hundred  recruits  had.  Then 
they  grew  fearful  of  the  men  they  had  robbed, 
and  hired  some  of  the  soldiers  to  guard  them. 
I  saw  two  soldiers  paid  $100  each  for  guarding 
them  while  they  slept.  Unguarded,  they  would 
have  been  killed  and  torn  limb  from  limb.  At 
Alexandria  we,  dirty  and  smelling  so  vilely  that 
the  street  dogs  refused  to  approach  us,  were 
marched  to  clean  barracks  and  well  fed.  That 
evening  I  paid  a  soldier  $5  to  stand  over  a  bath 
tub  and  watch  me  while  I  bathed.  I  had  to  go 
outside  of  the  barracks  to  bathe.  The  next 
morning  the  two  alert-eyed  gamblers  were  miss 
ing.  I  never  saw  them  again.  I  knew  that 


FROM  BARRACKS  TO  FRONT.  19 

they  were  not  recruits,  but  gamblers  in  league 
with  high  officials — gamblers  carefully  selected 
for  their  professional  skill  and  pleasing  address, 
and  that  they  had  been  sent  on  the  sea-voyage 
to  rob  the  bounty-laden  recruits.  The  trip  had 
been  exceedingly  profitable.  At  the  lowest 
calculation  there  had  been  $240,000  in  the  re 
cruits'  pockets  when  they  left  New  York.  I  do 
not  believe  the  same  pockets  contained  $70,000 
when  we  arrived  at  Alexandria. 

After  breakfast  we  were  counted,  and  the 
men  of  each  regiment  separated  into  groups 
and  told  to  keep  together.  We  were  then 
marched  under  guard  to  a  train  of  box-cars,  and 
loaded  into  them  much  as  cattle  are.  The  in 
terior  of  the  car  filled,  the  recruits  were  piled 
on  top.  At  each  of  the  side  doors  of  the  cars 
stood  two  armed  sentinels.  Two  more  sat  on 
top  outside  at  each  end  of  the  car.  In  the  end 
car  of  the  train  were  a  couple  of  officers  and 
fifteen  or  twenty  privates.  On  the  tender  of 
the  locomotive  were  more  guards.  We  were 
solemnly  told  by  an  officer  that  any  man  who 
got  off  the  car  without  permission  would  be 
shot  dead.  Five  men  did  not  believe  this 
statement,  or  they  may  have  been  so  greatly 
appalled  by  the  prospect  of  meeting  Lee's  sol 
diers,  that  they  resolved  to  attempt  to  escape. 


20          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  five  men  jumped  from  the 
train  while  it  was  in  motion,  and  were  instantly 
killed  by  the  guards.  The  train  was  stopped 
and  their  corpses  were  thrown  into  the  rear  car. 
The  men  in  the  car  I  was  in  were  ordered  off 
at  Brandy  Station.  We  fell  into  line  and  were 
counted,  and  then  turned  over  to  other  guards, 
whose  officer  receipted  for  us.  We  faced  into 
column  and  marched  from  camp  to  camp,  and 
at  each  camp  some  recruits  were  counted  out 
as  if  they  were  sheep,  and  receipted  for.  Du 
ring  this  march  of  distribution  I  learned  where 
many  regiments  were  camped,  and  I  often  vis 
ited  them  before  the  campaign  opened. 

I  rather  enjoyed  the  afternoon.  My  knap 
sack  was  light  (some  patriot  had  stolen  its  con 
tents  while  I  slept  on  the  steamer),  the  walking 
was  good,  the  air  was  pure  and  sweet,  the  scene 
was  novel  and  interesting ;  and,  above  all,  the 
propeller  was  at  Alexandria.  About  9  o'clock 
the  last  guard  and  I,  now  in  friendly  conversa 
tion  about  the  trip  from  Albany  to  the  front, 
arrived  at  the  camp  of  the  Eleventh  New  York 
Battery,  and  I  was  receipted  for.  The  next 
morning  I  drew  a  full  outfit  of  clothing  and 
burned  the  befouled  garments  I  had  worn  on 
the  "  Floating  Heaven  of  American  Patriots," 
as  I  named  the  propeller. 


II. 

IN   CAMP  AT   BRANDY   STATION. 

DURING  the  winter  of  1863-64  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  was  camped  in  Vir 
ginia  north  of  the  Rapidan  River.  A  large 
portion  of  it  was  at  Brandy  Station.  The  en 
listed  men  were  comfortably  housed  in  canvas- 
covered  log  huts.  There  was  a  large  fireplace 
in  each  hut,  and  wood  was  abundant  and  to  be 
had  for  the  cutting.  The  old  oak  forests  of 
Virginia,  whose  owners  were  gathered  in  ranks 
under  Lee  to  oppose  us,  suffered  that  winter. 
When  the  weather  was  fit  the  soldiers  were 
drilled,  and  drilled,  and  drilled  again.  We 
were  v/ell  fed,  having  plenty  of  bread,  fresh 
beef,  salted  pork,  beans,  rice,  sugar,  and  coffee. 
In  front  of  the  ground  on  which  the  battery 
I  belonged  to  was  camped,  was  a  large  plain. 
On  it  several  regiments,  in  heavy  marching  or 
der,  were  drilled  every  pleasant  day.  Instead 
of  practising  the  men  in  the  simple  flank  and 


22  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

line  movements  used  in  battle,  or  at  targets,  or 
in  estimating  distances,  they  were  marched  to 
and  fro  and  made  to  perform  displayful  evolu 
tions,  which  conveyed  the  impression  to  the 
spectators  that  thousands  of  Knights  Templar 
were  moving  in  competitive  drill  for  a  valuable, 
and,  maybe,  sacred  prize.  In  the  artillery  ser 
vice  the  drill  was  still  more  absurd.  Teams 
were  hitched  to  the  guns  almost  daily,  and  they 
were  whirled  over  comparatively  dry  ground  in 
a  highly  bewildering  but  exceedingly  useless 
manner.  Every  enlisted  man  in  the  army  knew 
that  we  were  to  fight  in  a  rugged,  wooded 
country  where  the  clearings  were  surrounded 
by  heavy  forests,  and  where  deep  shrub  and 
timber-clad  ravines  hazed  the  air,  and  where 
practice  and  practice  and  still  more  practice  in 
estimating  distances  was  required,  if  we  were  to 
fire  accurately  and  effectively.  Did  the  artil 
lery  officers  zealously  practise  us  in  estimating 
distance  ?  Never,  to  my  knowledge.  They 
taught  us  how  to  change  front  to  the  right,  to 
the  rear,  and  on  the  several  pieces  that  formed 
the  battery,  which  knowledge  was  of  as  much 
practical  use  to  us  as  if  we  had  been  assidu 
ously  drilled  to  walk  on  stilts  or  to  play  on  the 
banjo.  Never,  while  I  was  in  the  artillery 


IN  CAMP  AT  BRANDY  STATION.          23 

camp,  did  I  see  the  guns  unlimber  for  target 
practice.  The  dismounted,  or  gun  drill,  was 
useful  ;  but  this,  too,  was  loaded  down  with 
memory-clogging  detail. 

One  night,  one  of  the  gunners  named  Jellet 
and  I  sat  late  by  the  hut  fireplace  after  an  af 
ternoon's  hard  work  at  the  guns,  and  I,  young 
in  years  and  service,  humbly  suggested  that  I 
thought  that  much  of  the  drill  we  were  being 
taught  was  absurd  and  useless,  and  that  there 
was  not  time  before  the  spring  campaign  opened 
to  teach  the  new  recruits  the  entire  light-artil 
lery  drill.  Soberly,  the  corporal  who  had  sighted 
the  gun  I  served  on  through  many  battles,  laid 
his  hand  on  my  shoulder  and  said  impress 
ively  : 

"  My  lad,  you  are  just  beginning  to  discover 
the  artillery  humbug.  You  serve  in  what 
should  be  the  most  efficient  arm  of  the  service; 
an  arm  where  men  and  horses  and  guns  should 
be  wasted  as  water,  where  tons  of  ammunition 
should  be  expended  in  target  practice,  because 
if  a  gunner  cannot  hit  the  object  he  fires  at  he 
had  better  not  fire  at  all,  as  to  miss  excites  the 
contempt  of  the  enemy.  I  have  served  for  two 
years  in  this  army,"  he  added,  after  an  instant's 
pause,  "  and  there  is  not  a  general  officer  in  it 


24  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

who  understands  how  to  use  artillery,  not  one." 
Here  the  corporal  swore  roundly,  and  then  he 
added,  prophetically,  as  he  solemnly  nodded 
his  head  :  "  Wait  until  you  get  into  the  field 
and  your  heart  will  be  broken."  Then  he  went 
to  bed  leaving  me  by  the  fire,  where  I  sat  and 
toasted  myself  until  I  heard  a  guard  approach 
ing  the  tent,  then  I  turned  in  in  full  dress  and 
was  ^sleeping  soundly  when  the  guard  inquired 
why  we  had  a  light  after  taps. 

How  tired  I  got  of  camp,  and  drill,  and 
guard  duty  !  And  how  tired  I  got  of  the  rain 
and  mud!  A  large  portion  of  the  battery  men 
were  religious.  Almost  nightly  these  men  held 
a  prayer-meeting.  Next  to  us,  on  the  right,  a 
battery  manned  by  Irishmen  was  parked,  and 
almost  nightly  they  indulged  in  a  fist  fight. 
Once  in  a  while  they  evinced  a  desire  to  fight 
with  us,  and  at  long  intervals  some  of  the  un- 
regenerated  men  of  our  battery  gratified  them 
and  got  whipped.  Still  farther  to  the  right  a 
battery  of  the  Fourth  United  States  Artillery 
was  parked.  The  men  of  that  command  were 
either  Irish  or  Irish-Americans,  and  they  were 
keen  to  gratify  the  desire  of  volunteer  Irish,  or 
any  other  volunteers,  to  indulge  in  personal 
combat.  To  our  left  a  full  regiment  of  Ger- 


IN  CAMP  AT  BRANDY  STATION.          2$ 

mans,  heavy-artillery  men,  were  camped.  Be 
tween  them  and  the  regular  army  artillerymen 
a  bloody  feud  existed.  Many  and  many  a  Ger 
man  was  savagely  beaten  by  the  Irishmen. 
This  regiment  of  Germans  interested  me  great 
ly.  In  their  camp  I  first  saw  lager  beer.  I 
bought  a  glass  of  it,  but  finding  it  a  weak,  sloppy 
drink,  I  left  the  almost  full  glass  on  the  coun 
ter.  So  strong  an  impression  did  this  first 
drink  of  lager  make  on  me,  that  I  never  see  the 
foamy,  amber-colored  liquor  that  the  sutler's 
tent,  standing  on  a  muddy  plain,  and  surround 
ed  by  stout,  blue-coated  Germans,  does  not  arise 
before  me.  These  Germans  had  a  vast  amount 
of  personal  property.  They  had  recently  ar 
rived  from  the  fortifications  near  Washington, 
and  had  brought  their  accumulated  wealth 
with  them.  All  of  the  enlisted  men  had  one 
knapsack,  and  many  of  them  had  two,  and 
there  was  a  plenty  of  musical  instruments  in 
their  camp.  I  used  to  look  into  my  lean  knap 
sack  after  a  visit  to  the  Germans,  and  wish  it 
would  bulge  with  fatness  as  theirs  did.  This 
regiment  of  Germans  made  more  noise  in  their 
camp  than  two  brigades  of  Americans  would  or 
could  have  done. 

One  day  I  was  walking  near  the  camp  of  Bat- 


26  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

tery  A,  Fourth  United  States  Artillery.  Some 
of  the  men  of  that  command  were  drunk,  and 
among  them  was  a  line  sergeant,  a  sturdy,  blue- 
eyed,  black-haired  Scotchman.  He  was  wildly 
drunk,  but  not  staggering.  He  had  full  control 
of  himself  physically,  but  mentally  he  was  a 
madman.  He  cursed  loudly,  and  swaggered 
with  vehement  gesticulation  around  the  camp. 
I  saw  a  door  of  a  tent  thrown  open  and  a  hand 
some  young  officer  stepped  out.  He  was  neat, 
erect,  quick-stepping,  and  sharp-voiced. 

"  Sergeant  of  the  guard  !  "  he  called  loudly. 

A  sergeant  stepped  up  and  saluted. 

"  Put  a  gag  in  Sergeant  Stewart's  mouth,  and 
then  tie  him  on  a  spare  wheel  and  give  it  a 
quarter  turn ! "  the  sharp-voiced  officer  said 
loudly. 

The  sergeant  of  the  guard  saluted  again  and 
turned  to  obey.  Stewart  heard  the  order,  and 
turned  without  saluting  and  ran  at  the  top 
of  his  speed  to  a  large  tree  that  stood  a  few 
hundred  yards  off  on  the  plain.  When  he 
reached  the  tree  he  nimbly  swung  himself  up 
ward  into  its  lower  limbs,  and  speedily  climbed 
to  the  top.  Once  there,  he  drew  a  heavy  re 
volver  and  promptly  opened  fire  on  the  sergeant 
of  the  guard  and  his  detachment.  He  checked 


IN  CAMP  A  T  BRAND  Y  STA  TION.          2? 

the  pursuit.  Then  he  howled  and  swore,  and 
amused  himself  by  shooting  at  strange  horse-, 
men  who  happened  to  come  within  range.  The 
quick-stepping,  alert-eyed  officer  came  to  us 
and  asked  the  cause  of  the  delay  in  catching 
Stewart.  On  being  answered,  he  walked  toward 
the  tree.  Stewart  emptied  his  revolver  at 
him  and  missed  him.  He  grasped  the  useless 
weapon  by  the  barrel  and  waited  until  he  got  a 
fair  chance,  and  then  launched  it  at  his  offi 
cer,  who  stepped  aside  to  avoid  it.  He  walked 
under  the  tree. 

"  Sergeant  Stewart,  come  down  !  "  he  com 
manded. 

"  To  be  tied  on  the  wheel?"  Stewart  in 
quired. 

"  Yes  ;  to  be  gagged  and  tied  on  the  wheel," 
the  officer  replied. 

"  Then  I  '11  not  come  down,"  the  sergeant 
resolutely  said. 

The  officer  drew  his  revolver,  covered  Stewart 
with  it,  and  said  sternly  : 

"  Come  down,  or  I  will  kill  you." 

"  I  '11  not  come  down,"  said  Stewart.  You 
can  kill  me,  but  you  cannot  tie  me  up."  And 
Stewart  glared  savagely  at  the  officer  and 
whooped  exultantly. 


28  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

The  rage  of  the  officer  was  intense.  He 
lowered  his  revolver  and  swore  that  he  would 
tie  him  on  a  wheel,  and  that  he  would  not 
gratify  him  by  killing  him. 

"  Go  to  the  battery  wagon  and  bring  some 
axes  here,"  he  said  sharply  to  a  corporal.  The 
axes  were  brought  and  two  men  began  to  chop 
the  tree  down.  Sergeant  Stewart  did  not  fancy 
the  prospect  of  riding  on  an  oak  tree  as  it  swung 
through  the  air  and  crashed  on  the  earth.  He 
began  to  parley.  Would  his  officer  kindly  shoot 
him  if  he  came  down  ?  No,  he  would  not. 
Would  he  not  order  his  head  to  be  cut  off? 
No,  he  would  not.  Stewart  descended  limb  by 
limb,  and  at  every  limb  he  tried  to  have  the 
disgraceful  sentence  mitigated  to  death.  His 
officer  was  obdurate.  He  was  resolute  in  his 
intention  to  gag  him  and  tie  him  on  a  wheel. 
Stewart  finally  sat  on  a  lower  limb.  Any  of 
the  men  could  have  taken  him  by  the  legs  and 
pulled  him  down.  He  wanted  that  done.  That 
would  have  been  capture,  not  surrender.  He 
was  not  gratified.  He  had  to  climb  down. 
Then  he  was  marched  to  a  spare  wheel  and 
strapped  on  it,  previously  having  a  heavy  gag 
thrust  crossways  into  his  mouth  and  bound 
firmly  in  its  position.  I  was  amazed  that 


IN  CAMP  AT  BRANDY  STATION.          29 

Stewart  had  not  been  shot.  I  talked  to  the 
men  and  they  told  me  that  he  was  the  best 
sergeant  in  the  battery,  a  marvellous  shot  with 
a  Napoleon  gun  and  that  his  getting  drunk 
was  an  accident. 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  a  gray-haired  private  who 
had  three  service  stripes  on  his  coat  sleeve,"  he 
will  be  court-martialled  and  get  three  years  at 
the  Dry  Tortugas.  Before  the  sentence  is  re 
ceived  here,  the  battery  will  be  in  the  field  and 
Stewart  at  his  gun.  The  officers  will  not  pub 
lish  the  order,  but  will  hold  it  over  him.  If  he 
again  gets  drunk  or  becomes  insubordinate, 
then  he  will  catch  it." 

When  I  left  the  camp  of  the  regulars  Stewart 
was  hanging  on  the  wheel  and  the  men  were 
drilling  at  the  guns,  and  no  one  was  paying  a 
particle  of  attention  to  Stewart's  inarticulate 
cries  and  acute  suffering.  Here  I  will  say  that 
the  prediction  made  by  the  private  whose  coat 
sleeves  were  covered  with  service  stripes  came 
true.  After  I  was  promoted  into  the  regular 
army  I  served  with  Battery  A,  Fourth  Artillery, 
and  Sergeant  Stewart  was  then  a  line  sergeant. 
He  got  drunk  and  attacked  an  officer  with  a 
tent  pole,  and  the  old  sentence  of  the  court 
which  tried  him  at  Brandy  Station  was  put  into 


30  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

execution.     He  was  sent  to  the   Dry  Tortugas 
for  three  years. 

The  discipline  throughout  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  during  the  winter  of  1863-64  was 
necessarily  severe.  The  ranks  of  the  original 
volunteers,  the  men  who  sprang  to  arms  at  the 
tap  of  the  northern  war-drum,  had  been  shot  to 
pieces.  Entire  platoons  had  disappeared.  Regi 
ments  that  had  entered  the  great  camps  of  in 
struction  formed  around  Washington  in  1861- 
62  a  thousand  men  strong,  had  melted  before  the 
heat  of  Confederate  battle-fire  till  they  num 
bered  three  hundred,  two  hundred,  and  as  low 
as  one  hundred  and  fifty  men.  During  the  win 
ter  of  1863-64  these  regiments  were  being  filled 
with  bounty-jumpers,  and  these  men  had  to  be 
severely  disciplined,  and  that  entailed  punish 
ment.  There  was  no  longer  the  friendly  feel 
ing  of  cordial  comradeship  between  the  enlisted 
men  and  their  officers,  which  was  one  of  the 
distinguishing  characteristics  of  the  volunteer 
troops.  The  whole  army  was  rapidly  assuming 
the  character  and  bearing  of  regular  troops,  and 
that  means  mercenaries.  The  lines  drawn  be 
tween  the  recruits  of  1863-64  and  their  officers 
were  well  marked,  and  they  were  rigid.  The 
officers  were  resolute  in  their  intention  to  make 


IN  CAMP  AT  BRANDY  STATION.          31 

the  recruits  feel  the  difference  in  their  rank. 
Breaches  of  army  discipline  were  promptly  and 
severely  punished.  There  is  an  unwritten  mil 
itary  axiom  which  says  that  frequent  courts- 
martial  convened  to  try  enlisted  men  for  petty 
offences,  sharply  indicate  that  the  regimental 
officers  are  inefficient.  There  was  no  complaint 
on  this  score  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  in 
1863-64.  There  was  no  necessity  for  punish 
ing  the  volunteers.  They  were  men  of  high 
intelligence.  They  could  be  reasoned  with. 
They  could  and  did  see  the  necessity  of  soldier 
like  and  decent  behavior  in  their  camps.  They 
cheerfully  obeyed  orders,  because  they  realized 
the  necessity  of  obedience.  But  with  large 
bounties  came  a  different  class  of  recruits,  the 
bounty-jumpers.  These  men  had  to  be  heart 
lessly  moulded  into  soldiers.  And,  while  it  is 
true  that  the  apparently  brutal  methods  em 
ployed  to  check  the  insolent  tongues  and  to 
curb  the  insubordinate  spirits  of  these  men  did 
succeed  in  creating  the  outward  semblance  of 
soldiers,  it  is  also  true  that  no  earthly  power 
could  change  the  character  of  their  hearts ;  and 
they  were  essentially  cowardly.  The  bounty- 
jumpers  would  cheerfully  engage  in  savage 
rows ;  they  would  fight  fiercely  with  their  fists, 


32  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

but  they  could  not  and  did  not  stand  battle-fire 
stanchly. 

The  punishments  inflicted  on  the  enlisted 
men  were  various,  and  some  of  them  were  hor 
ribly  brutal  and  needlessly  severe ;  but  they 
apparently  served  their  purpose,  and  the  times 
were  cruel,  and  men  had  been  hardened  to  bear 
the  suffering  of  other  men  without  wincing. 
One  punishment  much  affected  in  the  light 
artillery  was  called  "  tying  on  the  spare 
wheel."  Springing  upward  and  rearward  from 
the  centre  rail  of  every  caisson  was  a  fifth  axle, 
and  on  it  was  a  spare  wheel.  A  soldier  who 
had  been  insubordinate  was  taken  to  the  spare 
wheel  and  forced  to  step  upon  it.  His  legs 
were  drawn  apart  until  they  spanned  three 
spokes.  His  arms  were  stretched  until  there 
were  three  or  four  spokes  between  his  hands. 
Then  feet  and  hands  were  firmly  bound  to  the 
felloes  of  the  wheel.  If  the  soldier  was  to  be 
punished  moderately  he  was  left,  bound  in  an 
upright  position  on  the  wheel  for  five  or  six 
hours.  If  the  punishment  was  to  be  severe,  the 
ponderous  wheel  was  given  a  quarter  turn  after 
the  soldier  had  been  lashed  to  it,  which  changed 
the  position  of  the  man  being  punished  from 
an  upright  to  a  horizontal  one.  Then  the  pris- 


IN  CAMP  AT  BRANDY  STATION.          33 

oner  had  to  exert  all  his  strength  to  keep  his 
weight  from  pulling  heavily  and  cuttingly  on 
the  cords  that  bound  his  upper  arm  and  leg  to 
the  wheel.  I  have  frequently  seen  men  faint 
while  undergoing  this  punishment,  and  I  have 
known  men  to  endure  it  for  hours  without  a 
murmur,  but  with  white  faces,  and  set  jaws  and 
blazing  eyes.  To  cry  out,  to  beg  for  mercy,  to 
protest,  ensured  additional  discomfort  in  the 
shape  of  a  gag,  a  rough  stick,  being  tied  into 
the  suffering  man's  mouth.  Tying  on  the  spare 
wheel  was  the  usual  punishment  in  the  artillery 
service  for  rather  serious  offences  ;  and  no  man 
wanted  to  be  tied  up  but  once. 

There  was  another  punishment  which  was 
much  more  severe  than  the  spare  wheel,  and 
which,  because  it  was  apt  to  cripple  the  men 
physically,  was  very  rarely  employed.  This 
was  known  as  "  tying  on  the  rack."  Back  of 
every  battery  wagon  is  a  heavy,  strong  rack,  on 
which  forage  is  carried.  It  stands  out  about 
two  feet  behind  the  wheels.  Its  edge  is  not 
over  an  inch  thick.  The  soldier  who  was  to 
suffer  the  tortures  of  the  rack  was  led  to  it. 
His  hands  were  dragged  forward  as  far  as  they 
could  be  without  lifting  his  feet  from  the 
Around,  and  there  they  were  bound  to  the 


34  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

felloes  of  the  wheel.  Then  one  foot  was  lifted 
and  bound  to  the  felloe  of  one  wheel,  then  the 
other  foot  was  bound  to  the  felloe  of  the  other 
wheel.  The  whole  weight  of  the  soldier  was 
thrown  on  his  chest,  which  bore  heavily  against 
the  sharp  edge  of  the  rack.  It  is  almost  un 
necessary  to  say  that  a  gag  was  strapped  into 
the  prisoner's  mouth  to  prevent  articulation, 
before  he  was  extended  on  the  rack.  No  man 
could  endure  the  supreme  pain  inflicted  by  this 
torture  without  screaming.  I  have  seen  a 
strong  and  most  determined  man  faint  in  less 
than  ten  minutes  under  the  strain  of  this  severe 
and  brual  punishment,  to  be  cut  down  and 
never  again  twirl  sponge  staff.  I  have  heard 
men  beg  to  be  killed  rather  than  to  be  tied  on 
the  rack. 

To  be  bucked  and  gagged  ?  Yes,  that  was 
severe,  but  not  dangerous.  It  was  highly  dis 
agreeable  and  painful,  too,  if  prolonged,  and  at 
all  times  calculated  to  make  a  man's  eyes  stick 
out  of  his  head  as  lobsters'  eyes  do.  And  then 
the  appearance  of  a  man  while  undergoing  the 
punishment  was  highly  discreditable.  The  sol 
dier  about  to  be  bucked  and  gagged,  generally 
a  drunken  or  noisy  soldier,  was  forced  to  sit  on 
the  ground  ;  his  knees  were  drawn  up  to  his 


IN  CAMP  AT  BRANDY  STATION.          35 

chin,  then  his  hands  were  drawn  forward  to  his 
shins,  and  there  they  were  securely  bound  to 
gether.  A  long  stick  was  then  thrust  under  his 
knees  and  over  his  arms.  A  gag  was  then 
securely  bound  in  his  mouth.  The  soldier  who 
was  bucked  and  gagged  could  not  hurt  himself 
or  any  one  else.  He  could  not  speak,  but  he 
could  make  inarticulate  sounds  indicative  of  his 
suffering,  and  he  invariably  made  them  before 
he  was  released. 

Daily  many  men  were  tied  up  by  the  thumbs, 
and  that  was  far  from  pleasant.  The  impudent 
bounty-jumper  who  had  stood  on  his  toes  under 
a  tree  for  a  couple  of  hours  to  keep  his  weight 
off  of  his  thumbs,  which  were  tied  to  a  limb 
over  his  head,  was  exceedingly  apt  to  heed  the 
words  of  his  officers  when  next  they  spoke  to 
him.  The  bounty-jumper  lacked  the  moral 
qualities  which  could  be  appealed  to  in  an 
honest  endeavor  to  create  a  soldier  out  of  a 
ruffian;  but  his  capacity  to  suffe-r  physically  was 
unimpaired,  and  that  had  to  be  played  upon. 

Then  there  was  the  utterly  useless  and 
shoulder-chafing  punishment  of  carrying  a  stick 
of  cord-wood.  The  stick  that  one  picked  up  so 
cheerfully,  and  stepped  off  with  so  briskly,  and 
walked  up  and  down  before  a  sentinel  with  so 


36  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

gayly  in  the  early  morning,  had  an  unaccount 
able  property  of  growing  heavier  and  heavier 
as  the  sun  rose  higher  and  higher.  One  morn 
ing  at  ten  o'clock  I  dropped  a  stick  that  did  not 
weigh  more  than  twelve  pounds  at  sunrise.  I 
sat  down  by  it  and  turned  it  over  and  over.  It 
had  not  grown,  but  I  was  then  willing  to  swear 
that  it  had  gained  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
eight  pounds  in  weight  during  the  time  I  had 
carried  it. 

One  evening  in  March  an  order  which  in 
vested  General  U.  S.  Grant  with  the  command 
of  all  the  armies  of  the  United  States  was  read 
to  us.  That  night  we  talked  long  and  earnestly 
about  our  new  general,  and  wondered  what 
manner  of  a  man  he  was.  Old  soldiers,  who 
had  seen  many  military  reputations — reputa 
tions  which  had  been  made  in  subordinate 
commands  or  in  distant  regions  occupied  by 
inferior  Confederate  troops — melt  before  the 
battle-fire  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  and 
expose  the  incapacity  of  our  generals,  shrugged 
their  shoulders  carelessly,  and  said  indifferently ; 
"  Well,  let  Grant  try  what  he  can  accomplish 
with  the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  He  cannot  be 
worse  than  his  predecessors;  and,  if  he  is  a 
fighter,  he  can  find  all  the  fighting  he  wants. 


IN  CAMP  AT  BRANDY  STATION.          37 

We  have  never  complained  that  Lee's  men 
would  not  fight.  Whatever  faults  they  may 
have,  cowardice  is  not  one  of  them.  We  wel 
come  Grant.  He  cannot  be  weaker  or  more 
inefficient  than  the  generals  who  have  wasted 
the  lives  of  our  comrades  during  the  past  three 
years."  But  Grant's  name  aroused  no  enthu 
siasm.  The  Army  of  the  Potomac  had  passed 
the  enthusiastic  stage,  and  was  patiently  wait 
ing  to  be  led  to  victory  or  to  final  defeat. 

The  enlisted  men  thorougly  discussed  Grant's 
military  capacity.  Magazines,  illustrated  papers, 
and  newspapers,  which  contained  accounts  of 
his  military  achievements,  were  sent  for,  and 
were  eagerly  and  attentively  read.  I  have  seen 
an  artillery  private  quickly  sketch  the  water 
courses  of  the  West  in  the  sand  with  a  pointed 
stick,  and  ridge  up  the  earth  with  his  hands  to 
represent  mountain  chains,  and  then  seize  suc 
cessive  handfuls  of  earth  and  drop  them  in 
little  piles  to  represent  Forts  Henry  and  Donel- 
son,  and  Pittsburg  Landing,  Vicksburg,  and 
Chattanooga.  And  then  the  enlisted  men 
would  gather  around  the  sketch  and  take  sides 
for  and  against  Grant  as  the  story  of  the  battle 
was  read  aloud  from  a  newspaper.  These  dis 
cussions  were  fruitless  but  combat-provoking, 


38  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

and  frequently  the  wranglers  adjourned  to  a 
secluded  spot  outside  of  the  camp  and  fought 
it  out  with  their  fists.  One  thing  about  Grant's 
assuming  command  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
that  no  private  I  talked  with  liked,  and  I  talked 
with  hundreds,  was  the  duality  of  command. 
Meade  was  retained  in  command  of  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac,  and  all  orders  affecting  the 
army  came  through  him.  Still  Grant  was  with 
us,  and  in  command  of  the  Potomac  army,  as 
well  as  of  all  other  armies.  There  was  a  division 
of  responsibility  in  the  division  of  authority 
which  impressed  the  enlisted  men  unfavorably. 
It  looked  as  though  the  generals  were  hedging 
against  future  mistakes  and  disasters. 

With  Grant  came  stricter  discipline  and  re 
cruits  by  the  thousand.  Throughout  April 
there  was  great  activity  in  all  our  camps  along 
the  Rapidan.  The  army  was  reorganized,  and 
many  generals  were  sent  to  Washington  for 
orders,  and  we  saw  no  more  of  them.  Staff 
officers  constantly  rode  to  and  fro.  Inspector- 
generals  were  busy.  There  was  a  mysterious 
hum  and  bustle  in  all  our  camps.  At  all  the 
railroad  stations  long  trains  of  cars,  filled  with 
provisions  and  forage,  were  unloaded.  White- 
capped  wagons,  loaded  with  hard  bread  and 


IN  CAMP  AT  BRANDY  STATION.          39 

barrels  of  salted  pork,  rolled  heavily  into  regi 
mental  and  battery  camps.  We  knew  that 
battle  was  near. 

On  the  evening  of  May  3d  we  fell  in  for 
dress  parade.  Up  and  down  the  immense 
camp  we  could  see  regiment  after  regiment, 
battery  after  battery,  fall  into  line.  The  bu 
gles  rang  out  clearly  in  the  soft  spring  air,  dis 
tant  drums  beat,  and  trumpets  blared.  Then 
there  was  silence  most  profound.  We  listened 
attentively  to  the  orders  to  march.  To  the 
right,  to  the  left,  in  the  distance  before  us,  and 
far  behind  us,  cheers  arose.  Battery  after  bat 
tery,  regiment  after  regiment,  cheered  until  the 
men  were  hoarse.  My  comrades  did  not  cheer. 
They  seemed  to  be  profoundly  impressed,  but 
not  in  the  least  elated.  The  wonted  silence  of 
the  evening  was  repeatedly  broken  by  the  re 
sounding  shouts  of  distant  troops,  who  could 
not  contain  their  joy  that  the  season  of  inac 
tivity  was  over,  and  the  campaign,  which  we 
all  hoped  would  be  short  and  decisive,  was 
opened.  That  night  many  unwonted  fires 
burned,  and  we  knew  that  the  veteran  troops 
were  destroying  the  camp  equipage  which  they 
did  not  intend  to  carry. 

Jellet,  the  gunner  of  the  piece  I  served  on, 


40  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

came  to  me  that  evening,  and  kindly  looked 
into  my  knapsack,  and  advised  me  as  to  what 
to  keep  and  what  to  throw  away.  He  cut  my 
kit  down  to  a  change  of  underclothing,  three 
pairs  of  socks,  a  pair  of  spare  shoes,  three 
plugs  of  navy  tobacco,  a  rubber  blanket,  and  a 
pair  of  woollen  blankets. 

"  Now,  my  lad,  Jellet  said,  "  do  not  pick  up 
any  thing,  excepting  food  and  tobacco,  while 
you  are  on  the  march.  Get  hold  of  all  the 
food  you  can.  Cut  haversacks  from  dead  men. 
Steal  them  from  infantrymen  if  you  can.  Let 
your  aim  be  to  secure  food  and  food  and  still 
more  food,  and  keep  your  eyes  open  for  tobac 
co.  Do  not  look  at  clothing  or  shoes  or  blank 
ets.  You  can  always  draw  those  articles  from 
the  quartermaster.  Stick  to  your  gun  through 
thick  and  thin.  Do  not  straggle.  Fill  your 
canteen  at  every  stream  we  cross  and  wherever 
you  get  a  chance  elsewhere.  Never  wash  your 
feet  until  the  day's  march  is  over.  If  you  do, 
they  will  surely  blister."  And  here  Jellet  be 
came  highly  impressive  and  shook  his  index 
finger  at  me  warningly  and  solemnly,  "  and," 
he  said,  "  get  hold  of  food,  and  hang  on  to  it ; 
you  will  need  it." 

The  next  morning  we  had  our  things  packed 


IN   CAMP  AT  BRANDY  STATION.          41 

and  our  breakfast  eaten  by  sunrise.  Our  use 
less  plunder  was  piled  up  ;  to  each  bundle  was 
fastened  a  tag,  on  which  was  the  name  of  its 
owner.  The  pile  was  turned  over  to  the  bat 
tery  quartermaster,  who  said  he  would  take 
good  care  of  the  property.  He  did,  too — such 
good  care  that  we  never  again  saw  a  particle  of 
it.  I  wanted  to  burn  the  camp,  but  the  old 
soldiers  who  had  fought  under  McClellan,  and 
Burnside,  and  Hooker,  and  Meade,  and  Pope, 
scornfully  snubbed  me.  They  said  :  "  Leave 
things  as  they  are  "  and  they  added,  signifi 
cantly  :  "  We  may  want  them  before  snow 
flies." 


III. 


MARCHING  TO  THE  BATTLE   OF  THE  WILDER 
NESS. 

AT  dawn  on  May  4,  1864,  General  Grant's 
last  campaign  opened.  The  enlisted 
men  of  the  battery  I  served  with  ate  breakfast 
and  struck  their  camp  at  Brandy  Station  before 
sunrise.  It  was  a  beautiful  morning,  cool  and 
pleasant.  The  sun  arose  above  an  oak  forest 
that  stood  to  the  east  of  us,  and  its  rays  caused 
thousands  of  distant  rifle  barrels  and  steel  bay 
onets  to  glisten  as  fire  points.  In  all  directions 
troops  were  falling  into  line.  The  air  resounded 
with  the  strains  of  martial  music.  Standards 
were  unfurled  and  floated  lazily  in  the  light 
wind.  Regiments  fell  into  line  on  the  plain 
before  us.  We  could  see  officers  sitting  on 
their  horses  before  them,  as  though  making 
brief  speeches  to  their  soldiers,  and  then  the 
banners  would  wave,  and  the  lines  face  to  the 
right  into  column  of  fours  and  march  off ;  and 
42 


MARCHING    TO    THE  BATTLE.  43 

then  the  sound  of  exultant  cheering  would 
float  to  us.  Short  trains  of  white-capped  and 
dust-raising  wagons  rolled  across  the  plain. 
The  heavy-artillery  regiment  of  Germans  serv 
ing  as  infantry,  which  had  been  encamped  to 
our  left  during  the  winter,  fell  into  line.  We 
light-artillery  men  laughed  to  see  the  burdens 
these  sturdy  men  had  on  their  backs.  All  of 
the  enlisted  men  of  that  regiment  had  one 
knapsack  strapped  on  their  broad  backs,  and 
many  of  them  had  two.  A  sturdy,  kindly 
race,  the  Germans,  and  tenacious  in  holding  on 
to  property  ;  but  in  those  days  they  were  igno 
rant  of  the  power  of  a  southern  sun,  and  of 
the  mysterious  quality  it  possesses  to  cause 
men  to  loathe  personal  property  which  they 
have  to  carry  on  their  shoulders,  and  to  cast  it 
carelessly  by  the  roadside.  Jellet,  the  gunner 
of  the  piece  I  served  on,  joined  me  as  I  stood 
leaning  against  a  cool  gun,  watching  the  Ger 
mans  make  ready  for  a  campaign.  He  smiled, 
and  said,  significantly  :  "  They  will  throw  away 
those  loads  before  they  camp  to-night."  A 
word  of  command  rang  out  in  front  of  their 
regiment.  They  faced  to  the  right  and  marched 
toward  Ely's  Ford  of  the  Rapidan,  and  toward 
the  Wilderness  that  lay  beyond.  "  Boots  and 


44          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

saddles  ! "  was  cheerily  blown.  The  light-artil 
lery  men  stood  to  their  guns.  The  horses  were 
harnessed  and  hitched  in,  the  drivers  mounted, 
and  we  moved  off  to  take  position  in  the 
column  directly  behind  the  heavily-laden  Ger 
mans.  We  were  in  high  spirits  j  indeed  we 
were  frisky,  and  walked  along  gayly.  The 
men  talked  of  the  coming  battle,  and  they  sang 
songs  about  the  soul  of  John  Brown,  alleged  to 
be  marching  on,  songs  indicative  of  a  desire 
to  hang  Jeff.  Davis  to  a  sour  apple-tree.  The 
Germans  were,  as  usual,  full  of  song  and  ex 
ceedingly  noisy.  I  irritably  expressed  a  wish 
that  they  would  be  quiet.  Jellet  sagely  ad 
vised  me,  saying :  "  Wait ;  take  it  easy.  I  know 
the  road  we  are  to  march  on.  There  will  be  no 
singing  in  that  regiment  this  afternoon."  But 
Jellet,  the  dear  old  boy,  was  always  advising 
impatient  young  men  "  to  take  it  easy,"  "  to 
wait  a  bit,"  and  "  don't  fret,"  and,  as  there 
was  nothing  else  to  do,  the  young  men  invari 
ably  followed  Jellet's  advice. 

We  marched  toward  Ely's  Ford  pretty 
steadily  for  a  couple  of  hours.  As  we  drew 
near  it,  we  saw  that  the  troops  were  beginning 
to  jam  around  its  approaches.  They  were 
being  massed  quicker  than  they  could  cross. 


MARCHING    TO    THE  BATTLE.  45 

We  halted  at  a  short  distance  from  the  ford 
and  impatiently  waited  for  our  turn  to  cross. 
Once  over  the  river  we  would  be  in  column 
and  in  our  proper  place.  I  noticed  that  the 
Germans  in  our  front  were  sitting  on  their 
knapsacks  engaged  in  mopping  their  faces  with 
red  handkerchiefs.  And  I  also  noticed  that  as 
the  sun  swung  higher  and  higher  toward  the 
zenith  their  songs  retired  within  their  hairy 
throats.  I  mentioned  these,  to  me,  interesting 
facts  to  Jellet,  and  he  tapped  his  nose  signifi 
cantly  with  his  index  finger  and  said  :  "  Wait 
a  bit.  We  will  lay  in  provisions  from  those 
fellows  soon."  And  then  he  smiled  as  he  laid 
down  the  military  law  designed  to  guide  the 
conduct  of  light-artillery  men  on  the  march  : 
"  Get  food,  honestly  if  you  can,  but  get  it  ;  and 
ever  remember  that  we  cannot  have  too  much 
of  it  in  the  battery." 

A  staff  officer  rode  out  of  the  apparently 
confused  mass  of  men  jammed  around  the  ford, 
and  galloped  toward  us.  As  he  passed  the 
German  soldiers,  they  slowly  arose  and,  resum 
ing  their  back-breaking  burdens,  marched  off. 
The  staff  officer  rode  to  us,  and  told  our  cap 
tain  to  follow  the  Germans  closely.  This  gold- 
laced  youth  of  the  staff  had  a  look  of  import- 


46          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

ance  on  his  face  that  made  us  all  smile.  His 
manner  was  as  though  he  that  morning,  single- 
handed  and  before  breakfast,  had  vanquished 
a  couple  of  maiden-devouring  dragons.  We 
crossed  the  Rapidan  on  a  pontoon  bridge,  and 
filled  our  canteens  and  drank  deeply  as  we 
crossed.  Then  we  marched  over  a  narrow  strip 
of  valley  land ;  then  came  a  long,  steep  hill 
that  led  up  to  the  comparatively  level  table 
land  of  the  Wilderness.  This  was  the  hill  that 
caused  the  Germans  to  part  with  their  personal 
property.  Spare  knapsacks,  bursting  with  rich 
ness,  were  cast  aside  near  its  base.  Blankets, 
musical  instruments,  spare  boots,  and  innumer 
able  articles  of  doubtful  utility  outcropped 
about  half  way  up  the  hill.  This  float  sharply 
indicated  that  the  lead,  when  we  discovered  it, 
would  be  a  rich  one.  Near  the  top  of  the  hill 
we  found  many  well-filled  haversacks,  and  we 
picked  up  every  one  of  them  and  hung  them 
on  the  limbers  and  caissons  and  guns.  The 
mine  was  rich,  and  we  worked  it  thoroughly. 
Now  we  began  to  come  on  stragglers — men  who 
had  overloaded  themselves,  or  who  were  soft 
and  unfit  to  march  in  their  gross  condition. 
These  men,  with  flushed  faces  and  shirts  open 
at  the  neck,  gazed  enviously  at  us  as  we  light- 


MARCHING    TO    THE  BATTLE.  4? 

artillery  men  walked  jauntily  by.  We  felt  it  a 
duty  to  tenderly  inquire  into  the  condition  of 
the  health  of  these  exhausted  men,  and  did  so 
pleasantly;  but  they,  the  ill-conditioned  per 
sons,  resented  our  expressions  of  love  and  pity 
as  though  they  had  been  insulting  remarks. 

On  the  upland  we  marched  briskly.  I  saw 
no  inhabitants  in  this  region.  They  had  fled 
before  our  advance,  abandoning  their  homes. 
The  soil  was  poor  and  thin,  and  the  fields  were 
covered  with  last  year's  dead  grass,  and  this 
grass  was  burning  as  we  passed  by.  I  saw  the 
burning  grass  fire  fences  and  sweep  into  the 
woods ;  and  I  wondered,  as  tiny  whirwinds 
formed  and  carried  revolving  columns  of  sparks 
through  the  battery,  if  the  caissons  and  limber 
chests  were  spark-tight.  As  none  of  the  men 
seemed  to  be  in  the  least  alarmed  at  the  near 
presence  of  fire,  I  ceased  to  worry,  willing  to 
take  my  chances  if  an  explosion  occurred.  We 
marched  steadily  until  the  old  Chancellorsville 
House  was  in  sight.  Many  of  the  trees  stand 
ing  around  us  were  bullet-scarred.  We  stood 
idly  in  the  road  for  some  time,  then  went  on 
for  a  few  hundred  yards,  and  parked  in  a  field 
by  the  road,  with  the  Germans  in  camp  ahead 
of  us.  Beyond  them  brigades  of  troops  lay 


48          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE, 

restfully  around  their  camp-fires.  Other  troops 
marched  by  rapidly,  and  late  into  the  night  the 
belated  men  trod  heavily  past  our  camp. 

During  the  day  we  had  occasionally  heard 
the  faint  report  of  distant  rifles  or  the  heavy, 
muffled  report  of  a  gun,  and  we  suspected  that 
our  cavalry  was  feeling  of  Lee's  men,  who  were 
intrenched  near  Mine  Run,  but  whose  pickets 
were  all  over  the  adjacent  country.  All  of  the 
enlisted  men  hoped  that  they  would  get 
through  the  Wilderness — a  rugged,  broken 
area  of  upland  that  extends  from  the  Rapidan 
River  close  to  Spottsylvania — without  fighting. 
The  timber  is  dense  and  scrubby,  and  the 
whole  region  is  cut  up  by  a  labyrinth  of  roads 
which  lead  to  clearings  of  charcoal  pits  and 
there  end.  Deep  ravines,  thickly  clad  with 
brush  and  trees,  furrow  the  forest.  The  Con 
federates  knew  the  region  thoroughly.  Many 
of  their  soldiers  had  worked  in  the  region, 
which  is  a  mineral  one.  They  knew  where  the 
roads  led  to,  where  the  water  was,  where  the 
natural  line  of  defence  was.  We  knew  nothing, 
excepting  that  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  under 
Hooker,  had  once  encountered  a  direful  dis 
aster  on  the  outskirts  of  this  desolate  region. 
On  all  sides  I  heard  the  murmur  of  the  enlisted 


MARCHING    TO    THE  BATTLE.  49 

men    as  they  expressed    the   hope   that   they 
would  not  have  to  fight  in  the  Wilderness. 

In  the  evening,  after  supper,  I  walked  with  a 
comrade  to  the  spot  where  General  Pleasanton 
had  massed  his  guns  and  saved  the  army  under 
Hooker  from  destruction,  by  checking  the  im 
petuous  onslaught  of  Stonewall  Jackson's  Vir 
ginian  infantry,  fresh  from  the  pleasures  of  the 
chase  of  the  routed  Eleventh  Corps.  We  walked 
to  and  fro  over  the  old  battle-field,  looking  at 
bullet-scarred  and  canister-riven  trees.  The 
men  who  had  fallen  in  that  fierce  fight  had  ap 
parently  been  buried  where  they  fell,  and  buried 
hastily.  Many  polished  skulls  lay  on  the 
ground.  Leg  bones,  arm  bones,  and  ribs 
could  be  found  without  trouble.  Toes  of 
shoes,  and  bits  of  faded,  weather-worn  uni 
forms,  and  occasionally  a  grinning,  bony,  flesh- 
less  face  peered  through  the  low  mound  that 
had  been  hastily  thrown  over  these  brave  war 
riors.  As  we  wandered  to  and  fro  over  the 
battle-ground,  looking  at  the  gleaming  skulls 
and  whitish  bones,  and  examining  the  exposed 
clothing  of  the  dead  to  see  if  they  had  been 
Union  or  Confederate  soldiers,  many  infantry 
men  joined  us.  It  grew  dark,  and  we  built  a 
fire  at  which  to  light  our  pipes  close  to  where 


50          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

we  thought  Jackson's  men  had  formed  for  the 
charge,  as  the  graves  were  thickest  there,  and 
then  we  talked  of  the  battle  of  the  preceding 
year.  We  sat  on  long,  low  mounds.  The 
dead  were  all  around  us.  Their  eyeless  skulls 
seemed  to  stare  steadily  at  us.  The  smoke 
drifted  to  and  fro  among  us.  The  trees  swayed 
and  sighed  gently  in  the  soft  wind.  One  vet 
eran  told  the  story  of  the  burning  of  some  of 
the  Union  soldiers  who  were  wounded  during 
Hooker's  fight  around  the  Wilderness,  as  they 
lay  helpless  in  the  woods.  It  was  a  ghastly 
and  awe-inspiring  tale  as  he  vividly  told  it  to  us 
as  we  sat  among  the  dead.  This  man  finished 
his  story  by  saying  shudderingly  : 

"  This  region,"  indicating  the  woods  beyond 
us  with  a  wave  of  his  arm,  "  is  an  awful  place 
to  fight  in.  The  utmost  extent  of  vision  is 
about  one  hundred  yards.  Artillery  cannot  be 
used  effectively.  The  wounded  are  liable  to 
be  burned  to  death.  I  am  willing  to  take  my 
chances  of  getting  killed,  but  I  dread  to  have 
a  leg  broken  and  then  to  be  burned  slowly ; 
and  these  woods  will  surely  be  burned  if  we 
fight  here.  I  hope  we  will  get  through  this 
chapparal  without  fighting,"  and  he  took  off 
his  cap  and  meditatively  rubbed  the  dust  off 


MARCHING    TO    THE  BATTLE.  51 

of  the  red  clover  leaf  which  indicated  the  divi 
sion  and  corps  he  belonged  to.  As  we  'sat 
silently  smoking  and  listening  to  the  story,  an 
infantry  soldier  who  had,  unobserved  by  us, 
been  prying  into  the  shallow  grave  he  sat  on 
with  his  bayonet,  suddenly  rolled  a  skull  on 
the  ground  before  us,  and  said  in  a  deep,  low 
voice  :  "  That  is  what  you  are  all  coming  to, 
and  some  of  you  will  start  toward  it  to-mor 
row."  It  was  growing  late,  and  this  uncanny 
remark  broke  up  the  group,  most  of  the  men 
going  to  their  regimental  camps.  A  few  of  us 
still  sat  by  the  dying  embers  and  smoked.  As 
we  talked  we  heard  picket-firing,  not  brisk,  but 
at  short  intervals  the  faint  report  of  a  rifle 
quickly  answered.  And  we  reasoned  correctly 
that  a  Confederate  skirmish  line  was  in  the 
woods,  and  that  battle  would  be  offered  in  the 
timber.  The  intelligent  enlisted  men  of  the 
Second  Corps  with  whom  I  talked  that  night 
listened  attentively  to  the  firing,  now  rising, 
now  sinking  into  silence,  to  again  break  out  in 
another  place.  All  of  them  said  that  Lee  was 
going  to  face  Grant  in  the  Wilderness,  and  they 
based  their  opinion  on  the  presence  of  a  Con 
federate  skirmish  line  in  the  woods.  And  all 
of  them  agreed  that  the  advantages  of  position 


52          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A    PRIVATE. 

were  with  Lee,  and  that  his  knowledge  of  the 
region  would  enable  him  to  face  our  greatly 
superior  army  in  point  of  numbers,  with  a  fair 
prospect  of  success.  But  every  infantry  soldier 
I  talked  with  was  resolute  in  his  purpose  to 
fight  desperately  and  aid  to  win  a  victory  that 
would  end  the  war,  if  it  was  possible  to  win  it. 
In  all  our  armies  in  the  civil  war  there  was 
among  the  enlisted  men,  the  volunteers,  a  sys 
tem  of  gathering  and  distributing  news  that 
beat  the  information  we  received  from  division 
and  corps  head-quarters  both  in  time  and  accu 
racy.  The  system  was  paralleled  by  that  of 
the  slaves  who  walked  the  plantations  lying 
within  the  Confederacy,  o'  nights.  These  army 
news-reporters  who  walked  through  the  camps 
at  night  to  meet  other  soldiers  and  gather  in 
telligence  and  discuss  the  campaign,  were  al 
most  invariably  Americans.  I  cannot  recall 
ever  having  met,  on  these  night  ranges,  men  of 
other  nationality.  There  was  a  burning  desire 
among  these  men  to  know  how  other  commands 
fared,  and  to  gather  accurate  information,  so  as 
to  correctly  judge  of  the  battle's  tide,  the  prog 
ress  of  the  campaign,  and  the  morale  of  the 
army.  The  enlisted  men  knew  of  defeats  and 
successes  long  before  they  were  published  in 


MARCHING    TO    THE  BATTLE  53 

general  orders.  The  truth  is  that  the  privates 
of  the  army — the  volunteers  without  bounty  I 
mean — never  believed  a  report  that  was  pub 
lished  from  head-quarters,  unless  it  corresponded 
with  the  information  the  "  camp-walkers  "  had 
gathered.  It  was  surprising  how  quickly  im 
portant  news  relative  to  a  battle  or  the  cam 
paign  spread  throughout  the  army.  The  news 
was  carried  from  camp-fire  to  camp-fire  at 
night,  and  it  was  generally  reliable  and  won 
derfully  full  and  accurate.  Often  as  I  sat  by  the 
camp-fire,  talking  with  my  comrades,  I  have 
seen  shadowy  forms  hurrying  rapidly  through 
the  woods,  or  along  the  roads,  and  I  knew  men 
who  were  hungry  for  authentic  news  were  beat 
ing  the  camps  and  battle-line  to  obtain  it. 
Frequently  these  figures  would  halt,  and  then, 
seeing  our  fire  with  men  around  it,  they  would 
issue  forth  from  the  woods  and  join  us.  They 
would  sit  down,  fill  their  pipes,  light  them  with 
glowing  coals,  and  then,  with  their  rifles  lying 
across  their  knees,  ask  for  the  Second  Corps 
news,  inquire  as  to  our  losses,  and  whether  we 
had  gained  or  lost  ground,  and  what  Confeder 
ate  command  was  opposed  to  us.  They  would 
anxiously  inquire  as  to  the  truth  of  rumors  of 
disaster  which  they  might  have  heard  during 


54          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

the  day.  They  would  listen  attentively  to 
what  we  said,  and  it  was  a  point  of  honor  not 
to  give  false  information  to  these  men.  And 
then  they  would  briefly  tell  the  Fifth,  or  Sixth, 
or  Ninth  Corps  news,  and  quickly  disappear 
in  the  darkness.  I  have  often,  after  a  day's 
service  at  the  guns,  walked  three  miles  in  the 
dark  to  verify  a  rumor  that  affected  our  safety. 
With  no  disrespect  to  these  natural-born  sol 
diers  and  most  intelligent  men  do  I  record  the 
seemingly  incongruous  truth,  that  it  was  neces 
sary  to  closely  watch  army  news-gatherers. 
One  and  all  they  would  steal  haversacks. 
They  invariably  combined  predatory  raids  on 
other  men's  portable  property  with  news- 
gathering.  To  rob  a  soldier  was  to  rob  a  man 
who  might  be  killed  next  day,  and  would  not 
need  property. 

It  was  past  midnight  when  I  crept  under  the 
caisson  of  my  gun  and  pillowed  my  head  on  my 
knapsack.  The  distant  rifle-shots  on  the 
picket-line  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  then  were 
lost  in  the  nearer  noises  of  the  camps,  and  I 
slept. 


IV. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  WILDERNESS. 

r  |  ^HE  next  morning  I  was  awakened  by  a 
bugle  call  to  find  the  battery  I  belonged 
to  almost  ready  to  march.  I  hurriedly  toasted 
a  bit  of  pork  and  ate  it,  and  quickly  chewed 
down  a  couple  of  hard  tack,  and  drank  deeply 
from  my  canteen,  and  was  ready  to  march  when 
the  battery  moved.  It  was  a  delightful  morn 
ing.  Almost  all  the  infantry  which  had  been 
camped  around  us  the  previous  evening  had 
disappeared.  We  struck  into  the  road,  passed 
the  Chancellorsville  House,  turned  to  the  right, 
and  marched  up  a  broad  turnpike  toward  the 
Wilderness  forest.  After  marching  on  this 
road  for  a  short  distance  we  turned  to  the 
left  on  an  old  dirt  road,  which  led  obliquely 
into  the  woods.  The  picket  firing  had  in 
creased  in  volume  since  the  previous  evening, 
and  there  was  no  longer  any  doubt  that  we 
were  to  fight  in  the  Wilderness.  The  firing 
55 


56          RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PRIVATE. 

was  a  pretty  brisk  rattle,  and  steadily  increas 
ing  in  volume.  About  ten  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing  the  soft  spring  air  resounded  with  a  fierce 
yell,  the  sound  of  which  was  instantly  drowned 
by  a  roar  of  musketry,  and  we  knew  that  the 
battle  of  the  Wilderness  had  opened.  The  bat 
tery  rolled  heavily  up  the  road  into  the  woods 
for  a  short  distance,  when  we  were  met  by  a 
staff  officer,  who  ordered  us  out,  saying  : 

"  The  battle  has  opened  in  dense  timber. 
Artillery  cannot  be  used.  Go  into  park  in 
the  field  just  outside  of  the  woods." 

We  turned  the  guns  and  marched  back  and 
went  into  park.  Battery  after  battery  joined 
us,  some  coming  out  of  the  woods  and  others 
up  the  road  from  the  Chancellorsville  House, 
until  some  hundred  guns  or  more  were  parked 
in  the  field.  We  were  then  the  reserve  artillery. 

Ambulances  and  wagons  loaded  with  medical 
supplies  galloped  on  the  field,  and  a  hospital 
was  established  behind  our  guns.  Soon  men, 
singly  and  in  pairs  or  in  groups  of  four  or  five, 
came  limping  slowly  or  walking  briskly,  with 
arms  across  their  breasts  and  their  hands 
clutched  into  their  blouses,  out  of  the  woods. 
Some  carried  their  rifles.  Others  had  thrown 
them  away.  All  of  them  were  bloody.  They 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      57 

slowly  filtered  through  the  immense  artillery 
park  and  asked,  with  bloodless  lips,  to  be 
directed  to  a  hospital.  Powder  smoke  hung 
high  above  the  trees  in  thin  clouds.  The  noise 
in  the  woods  was  terrific.  The  musketry  was  a 
steady  roll,  and  high  above  it  sounded  the  in 
spiring  charging  cheers  and  yells  of  the  now 
thoroughly  excited  combatants.  At  intervals 
we  could  hear  the  loud  report  of  Napoleon 
guns,  and  we  thought  that  Battery  K  of  the 
Fourth  United  States  Artillery  was  in  action. 
By  eleven  o'clock  the  wounded  men  were  com 
ing  out  of  the  woods  in  streams,  and  they  had 
various  tales  to  tell.  Bloody  men  from  the 
battle-line  of  the  Fifth  Corps  trooped  through 
our  park  supporting  more  severely  wounded 
comrades.  The  battle,  these  men  said,  did  not 
incline  in  our  favor.  They  insisted  that  the  Con 
federates  were  in  force,  and  that  they,  having 
the  advantage  of  position  and  knowledge  of  the 
region,  had  massed  their  soldiers  for  the  attack 
and  outnumbered  us  at  the  points  of  conflict. 
They  described  the  Confederate  fire  as  wonder 
fully  accurate.  One  man  who  had  a  ghastly 
flesh  wound  across  his  forehead  said  :  "  The 
Confederates  are  shooting  to  kill  this  time. 
Few  of  their  balls  strike  the  trees  higher  than 


58          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

ten  feet  from  the  ground.  Small  trees  are  al 
ready  falling,  having  been  cut  down  by  rifle 
balls.  There  is  hardly  a  Union  battery  in  ac 
tion,"  he  added,  after  an  instant's  pause. 

By  noon  I  was  quite  wild  with  curiosity,  and, 
confident  that  the  artillery  would  remain  in 
park,  I  decided  to  go  to  the  battle-line  and 
see  what  was  going  on.  I  neglected  to  ask  my 
captain  for  permission  to  leave  the  battery,  be 
cause  I  feared  he  would  not  grant  my  request, 
and  I  did  not  want  to  disobey  orders  by  going 
after  he  had  refused  me.  I  walked  out  of  camp 
and  up  the  road.  The  wounded  men  were  be 
coming  more  and  more  numerous.  I  saw  men, 
faint  from  loss  of  blood,  sitting  in  the  shade 
cast  by  trees.  Other  men  were  lying  down. 
All  were  pale,  and  their  faces  expressed  great 
suffering.  As  I  walked  I  saw  a  dead  man  lying 
under  a  tree  which  stood  by  the  roadside.  He 
had  been  shot  through  the  chest  and  had  strug 
gled  to  the  rear  ;  then,  becoming  exhausted  or 
choked  with  blood,  he  had  lain  down  on  a  car 
pet  of  leaves  and  died.  His  pockets  were 
turned  inside  out.  A  little  farther  on  I  met 
a  sentinel  standing  by  the  roadside.  Other 
sentinels  paced  to  and  fro  in  the  woods  on 
each  side  of  the  road,  or  stood  leaning  against 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      59 

trees,  looking  in  the  direction  of  the  battle-line, 
which  was  far  ahead  of  them  in  the  woods.  I 
stopped  to  talk  to  the  guard  posted  on- the 
road.  He  eyed  me  inquiringly,  and  answered 
my  question  as  to  what  he  was  doing  there, 
saying :  "  Sending  stragglers  back  to  the 
front."  Then  he  added,  in  an  explanatory  tone  : 

"  No  enlisted  man  can  go  past  me  to  the 
rear  unless  he  can  show  blood." 

He  turned  to  a  private  who  was  hastening 
down  the  road,  and  cried : 

"Halt!" 

The  soldier,  who  was  going  to  the  rear,  paid 
no  attention  to  the  command.  Instantly  the 
sentinel's  rifle  was  cocked,  and  it  rose  to  his 
shoulder.  He  coolly  covered  the  soldier,  and 
sternly  demanded  that  he  show  blood.  The 
man  had  none  to  show.  The  cowardly  soldier 
was  ordered  to  return  to  his  regiment,  and, 
greatly  disappointed,  he  turned  back.  Wound 
ed  men  passed  the  guard  without  being  halted. 
These  guards  seemed  to  be  posted  in  the  rear 
of  the  battle-lines  for  the  express  purpose  of 
intercepting  the  flight  of  cowards.  At  the 
time,  it  struck  me  as  a  quaint  idea  to  picket  the 
rear  of  an  army  which  was  righting  a  desperate 
battle. 


60          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

I  explained  to  the  sentinel  that  I  was  a  light- 
artillery  man,  and  that  I  wanted  to  see  the 
fight. 

"  Can  I  go  past  you  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  uyou  can  go  up.  But 
you  had  better  not  go,"  he  added.  "  You  have 
no  distinctive  mark  or  badge  on  your  dress 
to  indicate  the  arm  you  belong  to.  If  you 
go  up,  you  may  not  be  allowed  to  return,  and 
then,"  he  added,  as  he  shrugged  his  shoulders 
indifferently,  "  you  may  get  killed.  But  suit 
yourself." 

So  I  went  on.  There  was  very  heavy  firing 
to  the  left  of  the  road  in  a  chaparral  of  brush 
and  scrubby  pines  and  oaks.  There  the 
musketry  was  a  steady  roar,  and  the  cheers 
and  yells  of  the  fighters  incessant.  I  left 
the  road  and  walked  through  the  woods 
toward  the  battle-ground,  and  met  many 
wounded  men  who  were  coming  out.  They 
were  bound  for  the  rear  and  the  hospitals. 
Then  I  came  on  a  body  of  troops  lying  in  re 
serve, — a  second  line  of  battle,  I  suppose.  I 
heard  the  hum  of  bullets  as  they  passed  over 
the  low  trees.  Then  I  noticed  that  small 
limbs  of  trees  were  falling  in  a  feeble  shower 
in  advance  of  me.  It  was  as  though  an  army 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      6 1 

of  squirrels  were  at  work  cutting  off  nut  and 
pine  cone-laden    branches  preparatory  to   lay 
ing  in  their  winter's  store  of  food.     Then,  par 
tially  obscured  by  a  cloud  of  powder  smoke, 
I  saw  a  straggling   line  of  men  clad  in  blue. 
They  were  not  standing  as  if  on  parade,  but 
they  were   taking  advantage  of  the  cover  af 
forded  by  trees,  and  they  were  firing  rapidly. 
Their  line  officers  were  standing  behind  them 
or  in  line  with  them.     The  smoke  drifted  to 
and  fro,   and  there  were  many  rifts  in    it.     I 
saw  scores  of  wounded  men.    I  saw  many  dead 
soldiers  lying  on  the  ground,  and  I  saw  men 
constantly  falling  on  the  battle-line.     I   could 
not  see  the  Confederates,  and,  as  I  had   gone 
to    the    front    expressly    to    see   a   battle,    I 
pushed   on,  picking  my  way    from  protective 
tree  to  protective  tree,  until  I  was  about  forty 
yards   from   the  battle-line.      The  uproar  was 
deafening;    the    bullets   flew  through    the    air 
thickly.      Now  our  line  would  move  forward  a 
few  yards,  now  fall  back.      I  stood  behind  a 
large  oak  tree,  and  peeped  around  its  trunk. 
I  heard  bullets  "  spat "   into  this  tree,  and  I 
suddenly  realized  that  I  was  in  danger.     My 
; heart  thumped  wildly  for  a  minute;  then  my 
throat  and  mouth  felt  dry  and  queer.    A  dead 


62          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

sergeant  lay  at  my  feet,  with  a  hole  in  his 
forehead  just  above  his  left  eye.  Out  of  this 
wound  bits  of  brain  oozed,  and  slid  on  a  bloody 
trail  into  his  eye,  and  thence  over  his  cheek  to 
the  ground.  I  leaned  over  the  body  to  feel 
of  it.  It  was  still  warm.  He  could  not  have 
been  dead  for  over  five  minutes.  As  I  stooped 
over  the  dead  man,  bullets  swept  past  me,  and 
I  became  angry  at  the  danger  I  had  foolishly 
gotten  into.  I  unbuckled  the  dead  man's  cart 
ridge  belt,  and  strapped  it  around  me,  and 
then  I  picked  up  his  rifle.  I  remember  stand 
ing  behind  the  large  oak  tree,  and  dropping 
the  ramrod  into  the  rifle  to  see  if  it  was  loaded. 
It  was  not.  So  I  loaded  it,  and  before  I  fairly 
understood  what  had  taken  place,  I  was  in  the 
rear  rank  of  the  battle-line,  which  had  surged 
back  on  the  crest  of  a  battle  billow,  bareheaded, 
and  greatly  excited,  and  blazing  away  at  an  in 
distinct,  smoke-and-tree-obscured  line,  of  men 
clad  in  gray  and  slouch-hatted.  As  I  cooled 
off  in  the  heat  of  the  battle  fire,  I  found  that 
I  was  on  the  Fifth  Corps'  line,  instead  of  on 
the  Second  Corps'  line,  where  I  wanted  to  be. 
I  spoke  to  the  men  on  either  side  of  me,  and 
they  stared  at  me,  a  stranger,  and  briefly  said 
that  the  regiment,  the  distinctive  number  of 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      63 

which  I  have  long  since  forgotten,  was  near  the 
left  of  the  Fifth  Corps,  and  that  they  had  been 
fighting  pretty  steadily  since  about  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  but  with  poor  success,  as  the 
Confederates  had  driven  them  back  a  little. 
The  fire  was  rather  hot,  and  the  men  were 
falling  pretty  fast.  Still  it  was  not  anywhere 
near  as  bloody  as  I  had  expected  a  battle  to 
be.  As  a  grand,  inspiring  spectacle,  it  was 
highly  unsatisfactory,  owing  to  the  powder 
smoke  obscuring  the  vision.  At  times  we 
could  not  see  the  Confederate  line,  but  that 
made  no  difference ;  we  kept  on  firing  just 
as  though  they  were  in  full  view.  We  gained 
ground  at  times,  and  then  dead  Confederates 
lay  on  the  ground  as  thickly  as  dead  Union 
soldiers  did  behind  us.  Then  we  would  fall 
back,  fighting  stubbornly,  but  steadily  giving 
ground,  until  the  dead  were  all  clad  in  blue. 

Between  two  and  three  o'clock  the  fire  in 
our  front  slackened.  We  did  not  advance. 
Indeed  I  saw  no  general  officer  on  the  battle- 
line  to  take  advantage  of  any  opportunity  that 
the  battle's  tide  might  expose  to  a  man  of  mili 
tary  talent.  I  had  seen  some  general  officers 
near  the  reserves,  but  none  on  the  front  line. 
I  noticed  the  lack  of  artillery  and  saw  that  the 


64          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

nature  of  the  ground  forbade  its  use.  Our 
line  was  fed  with  fresh  troops  and  greatly 
strengthened.  Boxes  of  cartridges  were  carried 
to  us,  and  we  helped  ourselves.  We  were 
standing  behind  trees  or  lying  on  the  ground, 
and  occasionally  shooting  at  the  Confederate 
line,  or  where  their  line  should  have  been. 
Some  of  the  old  soldiers  muttered  about  things 
in  general,  and  rebel  dodges  in  particular,  and 
darkly  hinted  that  the  sudden  slackening  of 
the  fire  in  our  front  boded  no  good  to  us. 
Soon  a  storm  of  yells,  followed  instantly  by  a 
roar  of  musketry,  rolled  to  us  from  the  left, 
and  not  distant.  Almost  instantly  it  was  fol 
lowed  by  a  cheer  and  a  volley  of  musketry. 
We  sprang  to  our  feet  and  were  in  line,  but 
there  was  nothing  in  strength  ahead  of  us. 
To  the  left  the  noise  increased  in  volume. 
The  musketry  was  thunderous.  Soon  affrighted 
men  rushed  through  the  woods  to  our  rear,  not 
in  ones  and  twos,  but  in  dozens  and  scores, 
and  as  they  swept  past  us  they  cried  loudly : 

"  We  are  flanked !  Hill's  corps  has  got 
around  our  left." 

Officers  gave  commands  which  I  did  not 
understand,  but  I  did  as  my  comrades  did,  and 
we  were  speedily  placed  at  right  angles  to  our 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      65 

original  position,  which  was  held  by  a  heavy 
skirmish  line.  Many  of  the  men  who  were 
running  from  the  battle-field  dropped  into  our 
line  and  remained  with  us  until  nightfall.  I 
saw  men  from  a  dozen  different  regiments 
standing  in  our  line.  We  were  dreadfully 
nervous,  and  felt  around  blindly  for  a  few 
minutes,  not  knowing  what  to  do.  Then  we 
were  reassured  by  seeing  a  staff  officer  explain 
ing  something  to  the  commander  of  the  regi 
ment,  a  young  major.  This  officer  passed  the 
word  along  the  line  that  the  Second  Corps  had 
come  up  just  in  time  to  close  up  a  gap  between 
the  two  corps,  through  which  the  Confederate 
general,  Hill,  had  endeavored  to  thrust  a 
heavy  column  of  infantry.  Speedily  we  got 
back  into  our  original  position.  In  a  few  min 
utes  we  saw  a  thin  line  of  gray  figures,  not 
much  heavier  than  a  strong  skirmish  line,  ad 
vancing  rapidly  toward  us.  They  yelled  loudly 
and  continuously.  We  began  firing  rapidly, 
and  so  did  they.  They  came  quite  close  to 
us,  say  within  seventy-five  yards,  and  covered 
themselves  as  well  as  they  could.  We  could 
'  see  them  fairly  well,  and  shot  many  of  them, 
and  they  killed  and  wounded  many  Union  sol 
diers.  Soon  we  drove  them  to  cover,  and  they 


66  RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A    PRIVA  TE. 

were  comparatively  quiet.  The  noise  to  the 
left,  where  Hancock's  corps  was  fighting,  al 
most  drowned  the  racket  we  were  making. 
The  Confederate  charge  against  the  portion  of 
the  Fifth  Corps  where  I  was  fighting  was  not 
delivered  with  vim.  It  impressed  me  as  a 
sham.  Their  line,  as  I  said,  was  thin,  and  it 
lacked  momentum.  I  spoke  to  my  fellows 
about  it,  and  they  all  agreed  that  it  was  not 
earnest  fighting,  but  a  sham  to  cover  the  real 
attack  on  our  left.  There  the  battle  raged 
with  inconceivable  fury  for  about  two  hours. 
Then  the  fight  died  down,  and  excepting  for 
picket-firing,  the  lines  were  silent. 

The  wounded  soldiers  lay  scattered  among 
the  trees.  They  moaned  piteously.  The  un- 
wounded  troops,  exhausted  with  battle,  helped 
their  stricken  comrades  to  the  rear.  The 
wounded  were  haunted  with  the  dread  of  fire. 
They  conjured  the  scenes  of  the  previous  year, 
when  some  wounded  men  were  burned  to 
death,  and  their  hearts  well-nigh  ceased  to  beat 
when  they  thought  they  detected  the  smell  of 
burning  wood  in  the  air.  The  bare  prospect 
of  fire  running  through  the  woods  where  they 
lay  helpless,  unnerved  the  most  courageous  of 
men,  and  made  them  call  aloud  for  help.  I 


THE  BATTLE   Of  THE    WILDERNESS.      67 

saw  many  wounded  soldiers  in  the  Wilderness 
who  hung  on  to  their  rifles,  and  whose  inten 
tion  was  clearly  stamped  on  their  pallid  faces. 
I  saw  one  man,  both  of  whose  legs  were  broken, 
lying  on  the  ground  with  his  cocked  rifle  by 
his  side  and  his  ramrod  in  his  hand,  and  his 
eyes  set  on  the  front.  I  knew  he  meant  to  kill 
himself  in  case  of  fire — knew  it  as  surely  as 
though  I  could  read  his  thoughts.  The  dead 
men  lay  where  they  fell.  Their  haversacks 
and  cartridges  had  been  taken  from  their 
bodies.  The  battle-field  ghouls  had  rifled 
their  pockets.  I  saw  no  dead  man  that  night 
whose  pockets  had  not  been  turned  inside  out. 
Soon  after  dark  the  story  of  the  fight  on  our 
left  had  been  gathered  by  the  newsmongers, 
and  we  learned  that  the  Second  Corps  had 
saved  itself  from  rout  and  the  army  from  de 
feat  by  the  most  dogged  fighting,  and  that 
they  had  required  the  aid  of  Getty's  division 
of  the  Sixth  Corps  to  enable  them  to  hold 
their  own.  That  news  was  sufficient  to  start 
me.  So  I  went  down  the  line,  walking  through 
the  woods,  stumbling  over  the  dead  and  being 
cursed  by  the  living,  until  I  came  to  the  Second 
Corps.  There  I  found  a  regiment,  the  Fortieth 
New  York,  if  I  correctly  recall  the  number, 


68          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

some  of  whose  soldiers  I  knew.  They  told  me 
the  story  of  the  fight.  It  was  really  told  by 
the  windrows  of  dead  men,  and  the  loud  and 
continuous  shrieks  and  groans  of  the  wounded. 
I  was  still  bareheaded,  and  I  fitted  myself  with 
a  hat  from  a  collection  of  hats  lying  near  some 
dead  men.  And  I  took  a  pair  of  blankets  from 
the  shoulders  of  a  dead  man  and  slept  in  them 
that  night. 

Early  the  next  morning,  long  before  sunrise, 
I  had  my  breakfast,  and  having  seen  sufficient 
of  the  fighting  done  by  infantry,  and  strongly 
impressed  with  the  truth  that  a  light-artillery 
man  had  better  stay  close  to  his  guns,  I  bade 
my  acquaintances  good-by,  and  walked  off,  in 
tent  on  getting  to  my  gun  and  comparative 
comfort  and  safety.  But  I  hung  on  to  my  rifle 
and  belt.  They  were  to  be  trophies  of  the 
battle,  and  I  meant  to  excite  the  envy  of  my 
comrades  by  displaying  them.  Stepping  into 
the  road  I  walked  along  briskly,  and  saw  many 
other  unwounded  men  rearward  bound.  A 
sentinel,  with  rifle  at  the  carry,  halted  me,  and 
demanded  to  see  blood.  I  could  show  none. 
I  assured  him  that  I  belonged  to  the  light  artil 
lery,  and  that  I  had  gone  to  the  front  the  pre 
vious  day  just  to  see  the  battle. 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      69 

He  said  :  "  You  have  a  rifle  ;  you  have  a  belt 
and  a  cartridge  box.  Your  mouth  is  powder- 
blackened.  You  have  been  fighting  as  an  in 
fantryman,  and  you  shall  so  continue  to  fight. 
You  go  back,  or  I  will  arrest  you,  and  then  you 
will  be  sent  back." 

To  say  that  I  was  amazed  and  disgusted 
would  but  faintly  express  my  feelings.  There 
stood  the  provost  guard,  who  would  not  let  me 
go  home  to  my  battery.  I  longed  to  kill  him 
— longed  to  show  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
one  dead  provost  guard  ;  but  I  was  afraid  to 
shoot  him,  for  fear  that  his  comrades  might  see 
me  do  it.  So  I  turned  and  hastened  back  to 
the  front.  I  determined  to  fight  that  day,  and 
go  home  to  the  battery  the  succeeding  night. 
I  did  not  believe  that  the  line  of  guards  ex 
tended  far  into  the  woods,  and  even  if  they 
did  I  knew  that  I  could  pass  through  the  lines 
in  the  night.  Before  I  rejoined  the  infantry 
who  were  on  the  battle-line  I  equipped  myself 
with  a  plug  of  tobacco  and  two  canteens  filled 
with  water — never  mind  where  I  got  them. 

Away  off  to  the  right,  toward  the  Rapidan, 
the  battle  rose  with  the  sun.  In  our  front,  the 
Second  Corps,  there  was  little  movement  dis 
cernible.  But  so  dense  was  the  cover  that  we 


70          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

could  see  but  little  at  a  distance  of  two  hundred 
yards.  I  saw  that  the  soldiers  had  thrown  up 
a  slight  intrenchment  during  the  previous  night. 
About  five  o'clock  we  were  ordered  to  advance, 
and  pushed  ahead,  fighting  as  we  went,  and 
forced  Hill's  men  back,  killing  many,  wounding 
more,  and  taking  scores  of  prisoners.  We 
crossed  a  road,  which  a  wounded  Confederate 
told  me  was  the  Brock  road.  I  saw  many  dead 
Confederates  during  this  advance.  They  were 
poorly  clad.  Their  blankets  were  in  rolls,  hang 
ing  diagonally  from  the  left  shoulder  to  the 
right  side,  where  the  ends  were  tied  with  a 
string  or  a  strap.  Their  canvas  haversacks 
contained  plenty  of  corn-meal  and  some  bacon. 
I  saw  no  coffee,  no  sugar,  no  hard  bread  in  any 
of  the  Confederate  haversacks  I  looked  into. 
But  there  was  tobacco  in  plugs  on  almost  all 
the  dead  Confederates.  Their  arms  were  not 
as  good  as  ours.  They  were  poorly  shod.  The 
direful  poverty  of  the  Confederacy  was  plainly 
indicated  by  its  dead  soldiers.  But  they  fought  ? 
Yes,  like  men  of  purely  American  blood.  We 
had  charged,  and  charged,  and  charged  again, 
and  had  gone  wild  with  battle  fever.  We  had 
gained  about  two  miles  of  ground.  We  were 
doing  splendidly.  I  cast  my  eyes  upward  to 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      71 

see  the  sun,  so  as  to  judge  of  the  time,  as  I  was 
hungry  and  wanted  to  eat,  and  I  saw  that  it 
was  still  low  above  the  trees.  The  Confeder 
ates  seemed  to  be  fighting  more  stubbornly, 
righting  as  though  their  battle-line  was  being 
fed  with  more  troops.  They  hung  on  to  the 
ground  they  occupied  tenaciously,  and  reso 
lutely  refused  to  fall  back  further.  Then  came 
a  swish  of  bullets  and  a  fierce  exultant  yell,  as 
of  thousands  of  infuriated  tigers.  Our  men 
fell  by  scores.  Great  gaps  were  struck  in  our 
lines.  There  was  a  lull  for  an  instant,  and  then 
Longstreet's  men  sprang  to  the  charge.  It  was 
swiftly  and  bravely  made,  and  was  within  an 
ace  of  being  successful.  There  was  great  con 
fusion  in  our  line.  The  men  wavered  badly. 
They  fired  wildly.  They  hesitated.  I  feared 
the  line  would  break ;  feared  that  we  were 
whipped.  The  line  was  fed  with  troops  from 
the  reserve.  The  regimental  officers  held  their 
men  as  well  as  they  could.  We  could  hear 
them  close  behind  us,  or  in  line  with  us,  say 
ing  :  "  Steady,  men,  steady,  steady,  steady  !  "  as 
one  speaks  to  frightened  and  excited  horses. 
The  Confederate  fire  resembled  the  fury  of  hell 
in  intensity,  and  was  deadly  accurate.  Their 
bullets  swished  by  in  swarms.  It  seems  to  me 


72          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

that  I  could  have  caught  a  pot  full  of  them  if 
I  had  had  a  strong  iron  vessel  rigged  on  a  pole 
as  a  butterfly  net.  Again  our  line  became 
wavy  and  badly  confused,  and  it  was  rapidly 
being  shot  into  a  skirmish-like  order  of  forma 
tion.  Speedily  a  portion  of  the  Ninth  Corps 
came  to  our  assistance,  and  they  came  none  too 
soon.  They  steadied  the  line  and  we  regained 
heart.  During  this  critical  time,  when  the  fate 
of  the  Second  Corps  was  trembling  in  the  bal 
ance,  many  officers  rushed  to  and  fro  behind  us, 
but  I  saw  no  major-generals  among  them  ;  but 
then  I  had  sufficient  to  do  to  look  ahead  and 
fall  back  without  falling  down,  and  they  may 
have  been  on  the  battle-line,  only  I  did  not  see 
them.  The  Confederates  got  a  couple  of  bat 
teries  into  action,  and  they  added  to  the  deaf 
ening  din.  The  shot  and  shell  from  these  guns 
cut  great  limbs  off  of  the  trees,  and  these 
occasionally  fell  near  the  battle-line,  and  sev 
eral  men  were  knocked  down  by  them.  Our 
line  strengthened,  we,  in  our  turn,  pushed 
ahead,  and  Longstreet's  men  gave  ground 
slowly  before  us,  fighting  savagely  for  every 
foot.  The  wounded  lay  together.  I  saw,  in 
the  heat  of  this  fight,  wounded  men  of  the 
opposing  forces  aiding  each  other  to  reach  the 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      73 

protective  shelter  of  trees  and  logs,  and,  as  we 
advanced,  I  saw  a  Confederate  and  a  Union 
soldier  drinking  in  turn  out  of  a  Union  can 
teen,  as  they  lay  behind  a  tree. 

There  was  another  lull,  and  then  the  charging 
line  of  gray  again  rushed  to  the  assault  with 
inconceivable  fury.  We  fired  and  fired  and 
fired,  and  fell  back  fighting  stubbornly.  We 
tore  cartridges  until  our  teeth  ached.  But  we 
could  not  check  the  Confederate  advance,  and 
they  forced  us  back  and  back  and  back  until 
we  were  behind  the  slight  intrenchments  along 
the  Brock  road.  A  better  charge,  or  a  more 
determined,  I  never  saw.  We  fought  savagely 
at  the  earthworks.  At  some  points  the  timber 
used  in  the  earthworks  was  fired,  and  our  men 
had  to  stand  back  out  of  the  line  of  flame  and 
shoot  through  it  at  the  Confederates,  who  were 
fighting  in  front  of  the  works.  And  the 
woods,  through  which  we  had  fallen  back, 
were  set  on  fire,  and  many  wounded  soldiers 
were  burned  to  death.  We  beat  off  the  Con 
federates,  and  they,  with  the  exception  of  the 
picket  line,  disappeared.  Our  line  was  straight 
ened,  reserves  were  brought  up,  and  some  of  the 
battle-torn  troops  were  relieved.  We  had  half 
an  hour's  rest,  during  which  time  many  of  us 


74          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

ate  and  smoked,  and  drank  out  of  our  canteens ; 
and  we  talked,  though  not  so  hopefully  as  in  the 
early  morning.  Men  missed  old  comrades,  and 
with  only  seeming  indifference  figuratively 
reckoned  they  had  "  turned  up  their  toes." 
Firing  had  almost  ceased.  It  was  as  the  ces 
sation  of  the  wind  before  the  approach  of  a 
cyclone.  A  tempest  of  fire  and  balls  and  yells 
broke  out  on  the  right.  We  were  out  of  it. 
The  real  battle  raged  furiously  in  the  woods  to 
the  right,  while  a  heavy  line  of  Confederate 
skirmishers,  who  lurked  skilfully  behind  trees 
and  who  fired  briskly  and  accurately,  made 
things  decidedly  unpleasant  for  us,  and  effectu 
ally  prevented  any  men  being  drawn  from  our 
portion  of  the  line  to  strengthen  the  right. 
How  we  fretted  while  this  unseen  combat 
raged !  We  judged  that  our  men  were  being 
worsted  as  the  battle-sounds  passed  steadily  to 
our  rear.  Then  the  fugitives,  the  men  quick 
to  take  alarm  and  speedy  of  foot  when  faced 
to  the  rear,  began  to  pass  diagonally  through 
the  woods  behind  us.  While  we  stood  quiver 
ing  with  nervous  excitement,  and  gazing  anx 
iously  into  each  other's  eyes,  we  heard  a  solid 
roll  of  musketry,  as  though  a  division  had  fired 
together,  cheers  followed,  and  then  the  battle- 


THE  J3ATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      75 

sound  rapidly  advanced  toward  the  Confederate 
line.  Then  all  was  quiet,  and  the  fighting  on  the 
left  of  our  line  was  over.  Soon  word  was  passed 
along  the  line  that  the  charging  Confederates 
had  broken  through  the  left  of  the  Ninth  Corps, 
and  would  have  cut  the  army  in  twain  if  Gene 
ral  Carroll  had  not  caught  them  on  the  flank 
and  driven  them  back  with  the  Third  Brigade 
of  the  Second  Division  of  the  Second  Corps. 

The  enlisted  men  supposed  the  day's  fighting 
was  over.  And  so  did  our  generals.  But  the 
Confederates  marched  swiftly  on  many  parallel 
roads,  and  were  massed  for  an  attack  on  our 
right,  the  Sixth  Corps.  They  were  skilfully 
launched  and  ably  led,  and  they  struck  with 
terrific  violence  against  Shaler's  and  Seymour's 
brigades,  which  were  routed,  with  a  loss  of 
4,000  prisoners.  The  Confederates  came  within 
an  ace  of  routing  the  Sixth  Corps ;  but  the 
commanders  restored  and  steadied  the  lines, 
and  the  Confederate  charge  was  first  checked 
and  then  bloodily  repulsed. 

The  day's  offensive  fighting  on  the  part  of 
the  Confederates,  as  we,  the  enlisted  men, 
summed  it  up,  had  consisted  of  two  general 
assaults  delivered  all  along  our  line,  as  though 
to  feel  of  us  and  discover  where  we  were  the 


76          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

weakest,  and  to  promptly  take  advantage  of 
the  knowledge  gained,  to  attack  in  force  and 
with  surprising  vim  and  stanchness  first  one 
flank  and  then  the  other.  Both  of  the  assaults 
were  dangerously  near  being  successful. 

The  sun  sank,  and  the  gloom  among  the 
trees  thickened  and  thickened  until  darkness 
reigned  in  the  forest  where  thousands  of  dead 
and  wounded  men  lay.  The  air  still  smelled 
of  powder-smoke.  Many  soldiers  cleaned  out 
their  rifles.  We  ate,  and  then  large  details 
helped  to  carry  their  wounded  comrades  to  the 
road,  where  we  loaded  them  into  ambulances 
and  wagons.  I  determined  to  join  my  battery. 
I  threw  away  my  rifle  and  belt,  and  as  the  first 
wagons  loaded  with  wounded  men  moved  to 
the  rear,  I  walked  by  the  side  of  the  column 
and  passed  the  guards,  if  there  were  any  sta 
tioned  on  that  road,  without  being  challenged. 
When  I  was  well  to  the  rear,  I  for  the  first  and 
last  time  became  a  "  coffee  boiler."  I  cooked 
and  ate  a  hearty  supper,  and  then  rolled  myself 
in  the  dead  soldier's  blankets,  which  I  had 
hung  on  to,  and  slept  soundly  until  morning, 
when  I  found  the  battery  I  belonged  to  with 
out  much  trouble,  and  was  promptly  punished 
for  being  absent  without  leave. 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      JJ 

About  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  was  sit 
ting  by  the  battery  wagon,  sullenly  nursing  my 
sore  arms  and  shoulders  and  my  wrath.  I  had 
had  an  experience  of  packing  a  stick  of  wood 
on  my  shoulder  in  front  of  a  guard,  who  skil 
fully  touched  me  up  with  the  point  of  his 
sabre  when  I  lagged,  that  had  soured  my 
usually  sweet  temper.  And  I  was  ill-tempered 
when  wounded  men  began  to  drift  through  the 
guns.  The  noise  in  the  woods  had  sunk  to 
skirmish-firing.  The  wounded  men  said  that 
the  third  day's  fighting  opened  with  a  lit 
tle  artillery  practice  at  nothing,  which  was  not 
answered,  and  that  then  the  men  who  carried 
rifles  investigated  matters,  and  promptly 
discovered  that  the  Confederates  had  in 
trenched  themselves  during  the  night. 

That  evening  the  troops  began  to  pour  out 
of  the  woods  in  columns.  The  infantry  sol 
diers  marched  soberly  past  the  artillery.  There 
were  no  exultant  songs  in  those  columns. 
The  men  seemed  aged.  They  were  very  tired 
and  very  hungry.  They  seemed  to  be  greatly 
depressed.  I  sat  by  the  roadside,  in  front  of 
the  battery,  waiting  for  it  to  move,  and  atten 
tively  watched  the  infantry  march  past.  Many 
of  the  soldiers  spoke  to  me,  asking  if  there  was 


78          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

authentic  news  as  to  where  they  were  going. 
Some  of  these  men  were  slightly  wounded.  I 
noticed  that  the  wounded  men  who  stuck  to 
their  colors  were  either  Irish  or  Americans, 
and  that  they  had  the  stride  and  bearing  of 
veterans.  There  was  a  gap  in  the  column,  and 
my  battery  moved  on  to  the  road,  and  other 
batteries  followed  us.  We  marched  rapidly 
and  without  halting,  until  we  reached  a  point 
where  another  road,  which  led  in  the  direction 
of  the  right  of  our  battle-line,  joined  the  road 
we  were  on.  Here  we  met  a  heavy  column  of 
troops  marching  to  the  rear,  as  we  were.  The 
enlisted  men  were  grave,  and  rather  low  in 
spirits,  and  decidedly  rough  in  temper.  March 
ing  by  my  side  was  a  Vermont  Yankee  ser 
geant  whose  right  cheek  had  been  slightly 
burnt  by  a  rifle-ball,  not  enough  to  send  him 
to  the  rear,  but  sufficient  to  make  him  irritable 
and  ill-tempered.  He  talked  bitterly  of  the 
fight.  His  men  talked  worse.  They  one  and 
all  asserted  that  the  army  was  not  whipped, 
that  they  had  not  been  properly  handled  in 
the  two  first  days'  fighting,  and  that  the  two 
days'  fighting  had  resulted  in  a  Confederate  loss 
almost,  if  not  quite,  equal  to  ours,  as  the  fight 
ing  was  generally  outside  of  the  earthworks. 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.      79 

"  Here  we  go,"  said  a  Yankee  private ; 
"  here  we  go,  marching  for  the  Rapidan,  and 
the  protection  afforded  by  that  river.  Now, 
when  we  get  to  the  Chancellorsville  House,  if 
we  turn  to  the  left,  we  are  whipped — at  least 
so  say  Grant  and  Meade.  And  if  we  turn 
toward  the  river,  the  bounty-jumpers  will 
break  and  run,  and  there  will  be  a  panic." 

"  Suppose  we  turn  to  the  right,  what  then  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"  That  will  mean  fighting,  and  fighting  on 
the  line  the  Confederates  have  selected  and  in 
trenched.  But  it  will  indicate  the  purpose  of 
Grant  to  fight,"  he  replied. 

Then  he  told  me  that  the  news  in  his  Sixth 
Corps  brigade  was  that  Meade  had  strongly 
advised  Grant  to  turn  back  and  recross  the 
Rapidan,  and  that  this  advice  was  inspired  by 
the  loss  of  Shaler's  and  Seymour's  brigades  on 
the  evening  of  the  previous  day.  This  was  the 
first  time  I  heard  this  rumor,  but  I  heard  it 
fifty  times  before  I  slept  that  night.  The  en 
listed  men,  one  and  all,  believed  it,  and  I  then 
believed  the  rumor  to  be  authentic,  and  I  be 
lieve  it  to-day.  None  of  the  enlisted  men  had 
any  confidence  in  Meade  as  a  tenacious,  ag 
gressive  fighter.  They  had  seen  him  allow  the 


SO          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

Confederates  to  escape  destruction  after  Get 
tysburg,  and  many  of  them  openly  ridiculed 
him  and  his  alleged  military  ability. 

Grant's  military  standing  with  the  enlisted 
men  this  day  hung  on  the  direction  we  turned 
at  the  Chancellorsville  House.  If  to  the  left, 
he  was  to  be  rated  with  Meade  and  Hooker 
and  Burnside  and  Pope — the  generals  who  pre 
ceded  him.  At  the  Chancellorsville  House  we 
turned  to  the  right.  Instantly  all  of  us  heard 
a  sigh  of  relief.  Our  spirits  rose.  We  marched 
free.  The  men  began  to  sing.  The  enlisted 
men  understood  the  flanking  movement.  That 
night  we  were  happy.  There  was  much  inter 
change  of  opinion  between  the  artillerymen 
and  the  infantry.  We  gathered  from  the  losses 
these  men  enumerated  in  their  own  commands 
that  the  three  days'  fighting  had  cost  Grant 
about  twenty-five  thousand  men,  or  a  little 
more  than  one  fifth  of  the  army.  And  the  en 
listed  men — the  volunteers  who  had  brains  in 
their  skulls — always  insisted  that  those  figures 
correctly  represented  the  losses  of  Union  sol 
diers  in  the  bloody  Wilderness  battle. 


V. 

FIGHTING  AROUND    SPOTTSYLVANIA. 

MAY  8,  1864.  The  bloody  battle  of  the 
Wilderness  was  a  thing  of  the  past. 
That  dense  chaparral  in  which  the  unburied 
dead  Union  and  Confederate  soldiers  lay  scat 
tered  thickly  was  being  left  behind  us  as  we 
marched.  In  the  morning  the  guns  of  the 
Fifth  Corps  notified  the  Union  troops  that  the 
Confederates  had  been  found.  The  Fifth 
Corps  had  been  in  the  advance  in  the  flank 
movement  to  the  left  out  of  the  Wilderness, 
and  Longstreet's  corps  had  marched  parallel 
with  it,  and  had  taken  position  behind  the 
river  Ny,  which  was  more  properly  a  creek. 
We  were  not  in  this  fight,  but  correctly  judged 
that  it  was  not  severe,  as  at  no  time  did  the 
battle's  roar  rise  to  the  volume  which  indicates 
a  fierce  engagement.  On  May  pth  the  army 
was  clear  of  the  Wilderness.  We  took  position 
around  Spottsylvania  Court-House.  Wherever 
we  went  there  were  heavy  earthworks,  behind 
81 


82          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

which  the  veteran  Confederate  infantry  lurked. 
The  day  was  spent  in  getting  into  position  and 
in  bloody  wrangling  between  the  opposing 
pickets  and  in  sharpshooting.  At  intervals 
would  be  a  crash  of  musketry  and  a  cheer; 
then  the  artillery  would  open  and  fire  briskly 
for  a  few  minutes.  But  there  was  no  real 
fighting.  That  night  we  heard  that  General 
Sedgwick,  commanding  the  Sixth  Corps,  had 
been  killed  by  a  sharpshooter  or  by  a  stray  ball 
from  the  Confederate  picket  line. 

May  loth,  and  the  fighting  began.  The  din 
of  the  battle  was  continuous,  and  as  much  of 
the  artillery  had  been  drawn  to  the  battle-line 
the  noise  was  far  louder  than  it  had  been  in 
the  Wilderness.  The  troops  fought  all  day. 
A  solid  roll  of  musketry,  mingled  with  the 
thunderous  reports  of  cannon  quickly  served, 
caused  the  air  to  quiver.  After  fighting  all 
day,  we  spent  a  large  portion  of  the  night  in 
fruitless  endeavors  to  flank  the  Confederate 
position.  Spent  it  in  following  staff  officers, 
to  find  that  we  were  again  in  front  of  earth 
works,  which  were  lined  with  keen-eyed,  reso 
lute  infantry  soldiers.  In  Spottsylvania  we 
fought  by  day,  we  marched  by  night,  and  our 
losses  were  exceedingly  large. 


FIGHTING  AROUND   SPOTTSYLVANIA.      83 

One  day  the  battery  I  served  with  was  parked 
for  rest  near  a  road  down  which  wounded  men 
were  streaming  in  a  straggling  column.  These 
men,  tired,  weakened  by  loss  of  blood,  and  dis 
couraged,  tumbled  exhausted  into  the  angles 
of  worm  fences,  and  spread  their  blankets  from 
rail  to  rail  to  make  a  shade.  There  they  rested 
and  patiently  waited  for  their  turn  at  the  sur 
geons'  tables.  They  were  a  ghastly  array.  The 
sight  of  these  poor,  stricken  men  as  they  helped 
one  another,  as  they  bound  one  another's 
wounds,  as  they  painfully  hobbled  to  and  fro 
for  water,  was  a  most  pathetic  one.  They 
lined  the  roadside  for  half  a  mile,  a  double 
hedgerow  of  suffering  and  death,  as  men  were 
dying  in  the  fence  corners  every  few  minutes. 
Down  the  road  we  heard  the  stirring  music  of 
a  martial  band.  Soon  the  head  of  a  column  of 
troops  came  in  sight.  Officers  were  riding  at 
the  head  of  the  soldiers  on  horses  that  pranced. 
The  men  were  neatly  clad,  and  their  brass 
shoulder-plates  shone  brightly  in  the  sun. 

"  The  heavy-artillery  men  from  the  fortifica 
tions  around  Washington,"  one  of  my  comrades 
murmured. 

These  fresh  soldiers  were  marching  beauti 
fully.  They  were  singing  loudly  and  tunefully. 


84          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

They  were  apparently  pleased  with  the  prospect 
of  fighting  in  defence  of  their  country.  For  some 
reason  the  infantry  of  the  line — the  volunteer 
infantry — did  not  admire  heavy-artillery  men. 
They  liked  light-artillery  men,  and  were  en 
couraged  by  the  presence  of  the  guns  on  the 
battle-line.  There  was  something  inspiring  in 
the  work  of  the  gunners  and  in  the  noisy  re 
ports  of  the  cannon ;  and,  then,  cannon  were 
deadly,  and  if  well  served  and  accurately  aimed, 
they  could  and  did  pulverize  charging  columns. 
But  heavy-artillery  men  were  soldiers  of  a  dif 
ferent  breed.  There  was  a  widespread  belief 
among  us  that  these  men  had  enlisted  in  that 
arm  because  they  expected  to  fight  behind 
earthworks,  or  to  safely  garrison  the  forts 
which  surrounded  Washington.  We  did  not 
like  these  troops.  The  head  of  the  heavy-ar 
tillery  column,  the  men  armed  as  infantry,  was 
thrust  among  the  wounded  who  lined  the  road 
side.  These  bloody  wrecks  of  soldiers  derided 
the  new-comers.  Men  would  tauntingly  point 
to  a  shattered  arm,  or  a  wounded  leg,  or  to 
bloody  wounds  on  their  faces,  or  to  dead  men 
lying  in  fence  corners,  and  derisively  shout : 
"  That  is  what  you  will  catch  up  yonder  in  the 
woods  !  "  and  they  would  solemnly  indicate  the 


FIGHTING  AROUND   SPOTTSYLVANIA.      8$ 

portion  of  the  forest  they  meant  by  extending 
arms  from  which  blood  trickled  in  drops.  I 
saw  one  group  of  these  wounded  men  repeat 
edly  cover  and  uncover  with  a  blanket  a  dead 
man  whose  face  was  horribly  distorted,  and 
show  the  courage-sapping  spectacle  to  the 
marching  troops,  and  faintly  chuckle  and  cause 
their  pale  cheeks  to  bulge  with  derisive  tongue- 
thrusts,  as  they  saw  the  heavy-artillery  men's 
faces  blanch.  Still  others  would  inquire  in 
mock  solicitious  tones  as  to  the  locality  of 
their  cannon,  and  then  tenderly  inquire  of 
some  soldier  whose  bearing  or  dress  caught 
their  attention ;  "  Why,  dearest,  why  did  you 
leave  your  earthwork  behind  you  ?  "  And  they 
would  hobble  along  and  solemnly  assure  the  man 
that  he  had  made  a  serious  mistake,  and  that 
he  should  have  brought  the  earthwork  along, 
as  he  would  need  it  in  yonder  woods,  pointing 
with  outstretched  bloody  arms  to  the  forest, 
where  the  battle's  roar  resounded.  Others  as 
sumed  attitudes  of  mock  admiration  and  gazed 
impudently  and  contemptuously  at  the  full  regi 
ments  as  they  marched  by.  Long  before  the 
heavy-artillery  men  had  passed  through  the 
bloody  gauntlet  their  songs  were  hushed. 
They  became  grave  and  sober-minded.  For 


86          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

the  first  time  they  realized  what  war  meant.  It 
was  not  play.  It  was  not  pleasure.  It  was  not 
sport  under  the  greenwood  trees,  but  a  savage 
encounter  with  desperate  adversaries,  who 
dealt  death  and  grievous  wounds  with  impar 
tial  hands.  These  troops  passed  us  and  en 
tered  the  woods  and  the  battle,  and  I  am  proud 
to  say  that  their  fighting  was  superb.  They 
fought  with  a  steadiness  and  determination 
that  could  not  be  excelled.  The  whole  army 
honored  them.  After  Spottsylvania  I  never 
heard  a  word  spoken  against  the  heavy-artillery 
men  whom  Grant  summoned  from  Washington 
to  make  good  his  losses  in  the  Wilderness. 

The  movable  fight  dragged  along  until  May 
1 2th.  We  fought  here.  We  charged  there. 
We  accomplished  nothing.  But  early  on  the 
morning  of  May  I2th  the  Second  Corps  carried 
by  assault  the  Confederate  works  held  by  John 
ston's  division  of  Ewell's  corps,  capturing  about 
three  thousand  five  hundred  prisoners  and  thirty 
guns.  Our  troops  caught  the  battle-exhausted 
Confederates  asleep  in  their  blankets.  The 
Confederate  line  was  broken.  Their  army  was 
cut  in  twain.  But  it  amounted  to  nothing.  If 
the  advantage  had  been  intelligently  followed 
up,  it  might  have  had  decisive  results.  As  it 


FIGHTING  AROUND   SPOTTSYLVANIA.      8/ 

was,  many  thousands  of  enlisted  men  were 
killed  and  wounded  in  a  furious  fight  which 
lasted  all  day,  and  the  next  morning  we  found 
that  the  Confederates  had  fortified  a  line  in 
rear  of  the  captured  works,  and  our  losses  of 
thousands  of  brave  men  resulted  in  nothing 
but  the  capture  of  twenty  guns  (ten  of  these 
guns  which  were  captured  by  the  Second  Corps 
were  wrested  from  them  by  Swell's  men  in  the 
fights  that  ensued). 

That  night  a  wounded  Second  Corps  soldier 
came  into  our  battery,  and  joined  me  at  the 
fire.  He  asked  for  food.  I  had  plenty,  and  as 
the  man's  right  arm  was  stiff  from  a  wound,  I 
told  him  I  would  cook  a  supper  for  him  if  he 
would  wait.  He  greedily  accepted  the  invita 
tion.  Soon  I  had  a  mess  of  pork  and  hardtack 
frying  and  coffee  boiling,  and  as  I  had  that  day 
found  a  haversack — truth  is  that  its  owner,  a 
heavy-artillery  man,  was  asleep  when  I  found  it 
— which  contained  a  can  of  condensed  milk  and 
half  a  loaf  of  light  bread,  the  wounded  soldier 
and  I  had  a  feast.  After  supper  we  smoked 
and  talked.  He  told,  in  vivid,  descriptive  lan 
guage,  of  the  day's  fighting,  of  the  capture  of 
the  guns,  and  of  the  strength  of  the  Confeder 
ate  intrenchments.  Soberly  he  said  * 


88          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

"  The  Army  of  the  Potomac  has  always 
longed  for  a  fighting  general — one  who  would 
fight,  and  fight,  and  fight, — and  now  it  has  got 
him.  But,"  he  added,  "  he  does  not  seem  to 
know  that  Lee's  veteran  infantry  cannot  be 
driven  out  of  skilfully  constructed  earthworks 
by  direct  assault.  I  am  afraid  he  will  waste 
the  army  by  dashing  it  against  works  that 
cannot  be  captured.  The  enlisted  men  have 
been  sacrificed  to-day,"  he  added  sadly,  "and 
unlike  the  results  in  the  Wilderness  fight,  we 
have  killed  but  few  Confederates,  except  at 
the  captured  forts." 

This  was  the  first  complaint  I  heard  against 
Grant.  I  heard  plenty  before  the  campaign 
closed. 

"  The  Wilderness,"  said  my  wounded  guest, 
"  was  a  private's  battle.  The  men  fought  as 
best  they  could,  and  fought  stanchly.  The 
generals  could  not  see  the  ground,  and  if  they 
were  on  the  front  line,  they  could  not  have 
seen  their  troops.  The  enlisted  men  did  not 
expect  much  generalship  to  be  shown.  All 
they  expected  was  to  have  the  battle-torn  por 
tions  of  the  line  fed  with  fresh  troops.  There 
was  no  chance  for  a  display  of  military  talent 
on  our  side,  only  for  the  enlisted  men  to  fight, 


FIGHTING  AROUND   SPOTTSYLVANIA.      89 

and  fight,  and  fight ;  and  that  they  did  cheer 
fully  and  bravely.  Here  the  Confederates  are 
strongly  intrenched,  and  it  was  the  duty  of 
our  generals  to  know  the  strength  of  the 
works  (we  all  knew  the  dogged  fighting  ca 
pacity  of  their  defenders)  before  they  launched 
the  army  against  them."  The  intelligent 
private's  criticism  of  the  military  capacity  of 
our  generals  struck  me  as  eminently  correct, 
and  made  me  thoughtful.  My  guest  was 
tired,  and  first  exacting  a  promise  from  me 
that  I  would  give  him  his  breakfast,  he  lay  on 
his  back  behind  a  tree,  and  after  I  had  bathed 
his  wounded  arm  he  slept. 

We  marched  to  and  fro.  The  infantry  were 
almost  constantly  engaged  in  feeling  of  the 
Confederate  lines  to  find  a  weak  place,  and 
finding  all  points  stanchly  defended.  The 
artillery  was  pleasantly  employed  in  burying 
good  iron  in  Confederate  earthworks.  The 
list  of  our  killed  and  wounded  and  missing 
grew  steadily  and  rapidly,  longer  and  longer, 
as  their  cartridge-boxes  grew  lighter  and  light 
er.  One  day  a  brisk  fight  was  going  on  in 
front  of  us.  We  were  ordered  to  the  top  of 
a  hill  and  told  to  fire  over  our  infantry  into  the 
edge  of  the  woods,  where  the  Confederates  lay. 


90          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

The  battery  swung  into  action.  Below  us,  in 
the  open,  was  a  pasture  field.  In  it  were  two 
batteries  and  a  line  of  infantry.  The  former 
were  noisily  engaged ;  the  latter  were  not  do 
ing  much  of  any  thing.  The  Confederates 
were  behind  an  earthwork  that  stood,  shad 
owed  by  trees,  in  the  edge  of  the  forest,  and  it 
was  evident  that  they  meant  to  stay  there. 
Our  infantry  charged,  and  at  some  points 
they  entered  the  edge  of  the  woods,  out  of 
which  they  speedily  came,  followed  by  a  dis 
orderly  and  heavy  line  of  Confederate  skirm 
ishers.  The  batteries  in  the  open  were  skil 
fully  handled  and  admirably  served,  but  it  was 
a  matter  of  a  very  short  time  for  them.  As 
soon  as  our  infantry  got  out  of  range  in  a 
ravine,  the  Confederate  skirmishers  dropped 
prone  on  the  ground,  disappeared  behind  trees, 
sank  into  holes,  squatted  behind  bushes,  and 
turned  their  attention  to  the  Union  batteries, 
which  were  within  rifle  range  of  the  skirmishers, 
and  the  guns  were  almost  instantly  driven  from 
the  field,  leaving  many  horses,  and  men  clad 
in  blue,  lying  on  the  ground.  Then  the  Con 
federate  skirmishers  ran  back  to  their  earth 
works  and  clambered  over.  The  battery 
I  served  with  was  firing  three-inch  percussion 


FIGHTING  AROUND   SPOTTSYLVANIA.      9 1 

bolts  at  the  Confederate  line  and  doing  no 
harm.  One  of  my  comrades  spoke  to  me 
across  the  gun,  saying :  "  Grant  and  Meade 
are  over  there,"  nodding  his  head  to  indicate 
the  direction  in  which  I  was  to  look.  I  turned 
my  head  and  saw  Grant  and  Meade  sitting  on 
the  ground  under  a  large  tree.  Both  of  them 
were  watching  the  fight  which  was  going  on  in 
the  pasture  field.  Occasionally  they  turned 
their  glasses  to  the  distant  wood,  above  which 
small  clouds  of  white  smoke  marked  the  burst 
ing  shells  and  the  extent  of  the  battle.  Across 
the  woods  that  lay  behind  the  pasture,  and  be- 
hind  the  bare  ridge  that  formed,  the  horizon, 
and  well  within  the  Confederate  lines,  a  dense 
column  of  dust  arose,  its  head  slowly  moving 
to  our  left.  I  saw  Meade  call  Grant's  attention 
to  this  dust  column,  which  was  raised  either 
by  a  column  of  Confederate  infantry  or  by  a 
wagon  train.  We  ceased  firing,  and  sat  on  the 
ground  around  the  guns  watching  our  general, 
and  the  preparations  that  were  being  made  for 
another  charge.  Grant  had  a  cigar  in  his 
mouth.  His  face  was  immovable  and  expres 
sionless.  His  eyes  lacked  lustre.  He  sat 
quietly  and  watched  the  scene  as  though  he 
was  an  uninterested  spectator.  Meade  was 


92          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

nervous,  and  his  hand  constantly  sought  his 
face,  which  it  stroked.  Staff  officers  rode 
furiously  up  and  down  the  hill  carrying  orders 
and  information.  The  infantry  below  us  in 
the  ravine  formed  for  another  charge.  Then 
they  started  on  the  run  for  the  Confederate 
earthworks,  cheering  loudly  the  while.  We 
sprang  to  our  guns  and  began  firing  rapidly 
over  their  heads  at  the  edge  of  the  woods.  It 
was  a  fine  display  of  accurate  artillery  practice, 
but,  as  the  Confederates  lay  behind  thick  earth 
works,  and  were  veterans  not  to  be  shaken  by 
shelling  the  outside  of  a  dirt  bank  behind 
which  they  .lay  secure,  the  fire  resulted  in 
emptying  our  limber  chests,  and  in  the  remark 
able  discovery  that  three-inch  percussion  shells 
could  not  be  relied  upon  to  perform  the  work 
of  a  steam  shovel.  Our  infantry  advanced 
swiftly,  but  not  with  the  vim  they  had  dis 
played  a  week  previous  ;  and  when  they  got 
within  close  rifle  range  of  the  works,  they  were 
struck  by  a  storm  of  rifle-balls  and  canister  that 
smashed  the  front  line  to  flinders.  They  broke 
for  cover,  leaving  the  ground  thickly  strewed 
with  dead  and  dying  men.  The  second  line  of 
battle  did  not  attempt  to  make  an  assault,  but 
returned  to  the  ravine.  Grant's  face  never 


FIGHTING  AROUND  SPOTTSYLVANIA.     93 

changed  its  expression.  He  sat  impassive  and 
smoked  steadily,  and  watched  the  short-lived 
battle  and  decided  defeat  without  displaying 
emotion.  Meade  betrayed  great  anxiety.  The 
fight  over,  the  generals  arose  and  walked  back 
to  their  horses,  mounted  and  rode  briskly  away, 
followed  by  their  staff.  No  troops  cheered 
them.  None  evinced  the  slightest  enthusiasm. 
The  enlisted  men  looked  curiously  at  Grant, 
and  after  he  had  disappeared  they  talked  of 
him,  and  of  the  dead  and  wounded  men  who 
lay  in  the  pasture  field  ;  and  all  of  them  said 
just  what  they  thought,  as  was  the  wont  of 
American  volunteers.  This  was  the  only  time 
that  I  saw  either  Grant  or  Meade  under  fire 
during  the  campaign,  and  then  they  were  with 
in  range  of  rifled  cannon  only. 

Toward  evening  of  the  eighth  day's  fighting 
a  furious  attack  was  made  on  our  right  by 
Ewell's  corps.  This  attack  was  repulsed,  and 
then  the  battle  died  down  to  picket-firing  and 
sharpshooting.  Now  and  then  a  battery  would 
fire  a  few  shot  into  a  Confederate  earthwork, 
just  to  let  its  defenders  know  that  we  still  lived. 
We  were  strongly  intrenched,  and  it  was  evi 
dent  to  the  enlisted  men  that  the  battles  fought 
around  Spottsylvania  belonged  to  the  past. 


94          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

We  estimated  our  losses  up  to  this  time  at 
from  forty-five  thousand  to  fifty  thousand  men, 
or  about  two  fifths  of  the  men  whom  Grant 
took  across  the  Rapidan.  I  slept  from  6  P.M. 
of  the  eighth  day's  fighting  until  2  P.M.  of  the 
ninth  day's  fighting.  I  made  up  the  losses  of 
sleep  incurred  during  the  eight  days  and  nights 
of  almost  continuous  fighting  and  marching. 
This  sleep  was  so  profound  that  I  barely 
heard  the  guns  as  they  occasionally  roared 
over  my  head.  I  was  easy  in  my  mind,  as  I 
knew  that  some  hollow-eyed  comrade  would 
awaken  me  if  I  was  needed  at  the  guns  or  if  we 
moved. 

I  breakfasted  about  3  P.M.,  and  then,  feeling 
frisky,  volunteered  to  go  to  a  spring  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  to  the  rear,  the  first  portion  of  the 
path  to  which  was  commanded  by  Confederate 
rifles.  The  crew  of  the  gun  I  belonged  to 
loaded  me  down  with  their  empty  canteens, 
and  I  ran,  to  avoid  the  sharpshooter's  fire, 
to  the  protection  of  the  forest  behind  us. 
There  I  saw  many  soldiers.  Hollow-eyed, 
tired-looking  men  they  were,  too,  but  not 
"  coffee-boilers,"  lying  on  the  ground  sleeping 
soundly.  They  had  sought  the  comparative 
safety  of  the  forest  to  sleep.  Near  the  spring, 


FIGHTING  AROUND   SPOTTSYLVANIA.      95 

which  rose  in  a  dense  thicket  through  which  a 
spring  run  flowed,  the  shade  was  thick  and  the 
forest  gloomy.  The  water  in  the  spring  had 
been  roiled,  so  I  searched  for  another  higher 
up  the  run.  While  searching  for  it  I  saw  a 
colonel  of  infantry  put  on  his  war  paint.  It 
was  a  howling  farce  in  one  act — one  brief  act 
of  not  more  than  twenty  seconds'  duration,  but 
the  fun  of  the  world  was  crowded  into  it. 
This  blond,  bewhiskered  brave  sat  safely  be 
hind  a  large  oak  tree.  He  looked  around 
quickly.  His  face  hardened  with  resolution. 
He  took  a  cartridge  out  of  his  vest  pocket,  tore 
the  paper  with  his  strong  white  teeth,  spilled 
the  powder  into  his  right  palm,  spat  on  it,  and 
then,  first  casting  a  quick  glance  around  to  see 
if  he  was  observed,  he  rubbed  the  moistened 
powder  on  his  face  and  hands,  and  then  dust- 
coated  the  war  paint.  Instantly  he  was  trans 
formed  from  a  trembling  coward  who  lurked 
behind  a  tree  into  an  exhausted  brave  taking 
a  little  well-earned  repose.  I  laughed  silently 
at  the  spectacle,  and  filled  my  canteens  at  a 
spring  I  found,  and  then  rejoined  my  com 
rades,  and  together  we  laughed  at  and  then 
drank  to  the  health  of  the  blonde  warrior. 
That  night  I  slept  and  dreamed  of  comic  plays 


g6  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

and  extravagant  burlesques;  but  in  the  wildest 
of  dream  vagaries  there  was  no  picture  that  at 
all  compared  with  the  actual  one  I  had  seen  in 
the  forest.  That  colonel  is  yet  alive.  I  saw 
him  two  years  ago. 


VI. 


THE   FLANK  MOVEMENT  FROM  SPOTTSYLVANIA 
TO   THE   NORTH   ANNA   RIVER. 

FOR  fifteen  days  we  had  been  fighting  in 
the  Wilderness  and  at  Spottsylvania, 
and  it  was  with  great  joy  that  the  enlisted  men 
of  the  Second  Corps  received  on  the  afternoon 
of  May  20,  1864,  the  order  to  withdraw  from 
our  foul  intrenchments  and  march  to  the  rear. 
Other  troops  occupied  our  earthworks  as  we 
marched  out.  Our  officers  assured  us  that  we 
were  to  have  a  rest.  We  needed  it.  Fifteen 
days  of  battle — fifteen  days  of  continuous  and 
bloody  fighting — had  exhausted  us  physically, 
and  had  unstrung  our  nerves.  We  fell  back 
to  a  piece  of  woods,  and  prepared  to  enjoy 
a  night's  unbroken  sleep.  The  guns  were 
parked.  The  picket  rope  was  stretched,  and 
some  horses  were  tied  to  it,  when  a  head- 
quarter's  orderly  rode  briskly  into  our  camp 
and  delivered  an  order  to  our  captain.  The 
97 


98  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

enlisted  men  ceased  their  preparations  for 
making  a  night  of  it,  and  watched  the  orderly. 
The  captain  read  the  order,  receipted  for  it  and 
then  ordered  the  chests  of  the  gun  limbers  to 
be  rilled  with  ammunition,  and  supplemented 
that  with  another,  commanding  the  chief  of 
caissons  to  take  them  to  the  rear  to  the  am 
munition  train  and  fill  them.  The  enlisted 
men  did  not  relish  these  orders.  They  sharply 
indicated  that  we  were  not  to  have  a  long,  un 
broken  sleep.  In  a  few  minutes  the  battery 
quartermaster  came  into  camp,  accompanied 
by  his  wagons,  which  were  loaded  with  forage 
and  rations.  The  line  sergeants  loudly  called  : 
"Fall  in  for  rations!"  and  the  gun  detach 
ments  marched  to  the  wagons,  where  six  days' 
rations  were  issued  to  us.  Sacks  of  grain  were 
thrown  on  the  ground,  preparatory  to  being 
loaded  on  the  limbers  and  caissons.  To  the 
right,  to  the  left  of  us,  heavy  six-mule  teams 
rolled  into  the  infantry  camps,  and  the  soldiers 
gathered  around  them  with  open  haversacks, 
which  were  speedily  filled.  Men  who  were 
bathing  at  a  run  which  flowed  near  us,  or  who 
were  seated  shirt  in  hand  on  the  ground,  en 
deavoring  to  pick  the  vermin  off  of  that  gar 
ment,  put  on  their  clothing  and  hurried  to  the 


THE  FLANK  MOVEMENT,  99 

wagons.  Then  other  wagons,  which  chucked 
heavily  into  ruts,  rolled  into  the  infantry 
camps,  and  chests  filled  with  ammunition  were 
thrown  out  and  ripped  open,  and  the  soldiers 
helped  themselves.  Cartridge-boxes  were  filled 
until  they  sagged  heavily  on  the  supporting 
belts. 

After  eating  an  early  supper  I  walked  over 
to  the  nearest  infantry  regiment,  and  found 
most  of  the  men  lying  on  the  ground,  sleeping 
soundly  by  their  stacked  muskets.  A  few 
groups  of  earnest,  intelligent  soldiers  sat  under 
trees  studying  the  war  maps  of  Virginia  which 
were  open  before  them.  These  men  told  me 
that  six  days'  rations — and  generous  rations, 
too — had  been  issued  to  them,  and  that  every 
enlisted  man  had  forty  rounds  of  ammunition 
in  his  cartridge-box  and  twenty  in  his  pockets. 
I  sat  with  these  men  for  an  hour.  We  talked 
of  the  campaign,  and  studied  the  maps,  and 
finally  concluded  that  the  Second  Corps  was  to 
march  that  night  to  our  left,  and  attempt  to 
get  around  the  Confederate  right.  Not  a  man 
of  the  group  I  was  with  believed  that  the  move 
ment  would  be  successful.  We  knew,  and  the 
maps  showed,  that  the  Confederates  had  the 
shortest  line  to  march  on,  and  we  had  heard 


100        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

from  cavalry  privates  who  had  ridden  south  on 
raids  or  who  had  operated  on  the  flanks  of  the 
army,  that  the  important  strategic  points  and 
natural  lines  of  defence  that  lay  in  the  region 
intervening  between  us  and  Richmond  had  all 
been  carefully  fortified.  But  whether  the 
movement  would  be  successful  or  not,  it  was 
the  only  thing  to  be  done,  unless  it  were  to  re 
turn  to  the  camps  north  of  the  Rapidan.  Every 
intelligent  enlisted  .man  in  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  knew  that  we  could  not  wrest  the  Con 
federate  intrenchments  at  Spottsylvania  from 
Lee's  veteran  infantry. 

Returning  to  the  battery,  I  found  many  of 
the  cannoneers  studying  war  maps,  with  which 
we  light-artillery  men  had  abundantly  supplied 
ourselves,  and  earnestly  endeavoring  to  fathom 
Grant's  plans.  I  had  indulged  in  this  military 
pastime  with  the  infantry  soldiers,  and,  when 
my  comrades  asked  me  to  join  them,  I  declined 
to  waste  further  time  in  the  sport,  and  spread 
my  blankets  under  a  tree  on  the  vermin-in 
fested  ground,  and  was  asleep  instantly,  to  be 
awakened  just  as  I  was  winning  a  great  battle, 
by  the  drivers  hitching  in  their  horses.  I 
packed  up,  asked  a  sergeant  what  time  it  was, 
and  was  told  that  it  was  about  midnight.  There 


THE  FLANK 


were  no  bugle  calls  that  night  Indeed,  I  heard 
no  music,  not  even  the  tap  of  a  drum.  Silently 
the  battery  rolled  off  of  our  camp  ground.  We 
could  hear  the  solid  tread,  tread,  tread  of  un 
seen  infantry  as  they  marched  by.  All  around 
us  the  air  hummed  and  vibrated  with  life. 
Murmurs  as  of  reeds  whisperingly  greeting  the 
flowing  sea  filled  the  air.  We  came  to  a  broad 
road  which  showed  white  in  the  night,  and 
along  which  the  Second  Corps  were  streaming 
at  a  swinging  gait,  with  their  arms  at  will.  We 
turned  into  the  road  and  marched  alongside  of 
these  men.  How  they  growled  !  How  they 
swore  !  We,  too,  growled  and  marched,  and 
growled  and  swore,  and  grumbled  and  enjoyed 
life  right  savagely.  About  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning  we  heard  a  noise  in  the  forest  to  our 
right,  and  then  a  couple  of  rifle  shots  rang  out 
sharply.  Instantly  the  column  halted.  The 
infantry  faced  to  the  right,  and  crowded  close 
to  the  cannon.  A  score  of  men  sprang  over  the 
guns,  and  dashed  through  the  forest  in  the 
direction  of  the  sound  we  had  heard.  The 
rifles  of  the  soldiers  crowding  us  were  raised  to 
their  shoulders. 

"  Lie  down  !  lie  down  !  "  they  whispered  to  us. 

We  unlimbered  the  guns,  but  had  not  surfi- 


,!<)£        &$Q(gj8£T&tfS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

cient  space  to  swing  them  into  battery,  so 
closely  did  the  infantry  press  around  us. 

"  Lie  down  !  Get  out  of  our  line  of  fire  ! 
Lie  down  !  "  whispered  a  soldier,  whose  eyes 
blazed  with  excitement,  to  me  and  to  my  com 
rades. 

We  crouched  low  around  the  gun-trails,  and 
waited.  After  the  column  halted  I  did  not  hear 
an  officer  give  a  command.  The  enlisted  men 
knew  what  to  do,  and  did  it  instantly  and  with 
out  orders.  It  was  an  impressive  sight  that  I 
saw  above  me  :  two  lines  of  veteran  infantry, 
with  rifles  almost  aimed,  with  set  faces  and 
blazing  eyes,  gazing  intently  into  the  darkness 
of  a  dense  forest  in  search  of  an  unseen  enemy 
whom  we  thought  was  lurking  there.  So  pro 
found  was  the  silence  that  I  could  hear  my 
heart  beat.  Soon  we  heard  the  voices  of  the 
skirmishers,  who  had  rushed  into  the  woods, 
calling  lowly,  but  distinctly,  as  they  returned  : 

"  There  is  nothing  there.  Don't  fire  !  don't 
fire  !  We  are  coming  back."  They  rejoined  the 
battle-line,  which  faced  into  column,  and,  lim 
bering  up,  we  resumed  the  march.  But  I  did 
not  understand  the  two  rifle  shots,  and  I  did 
not  like  the  way  in  which  the  battery  got 
jammed  on  the  road. 


THE  FLANK  MOVEMENT.  1 03 

The  night  wore  away.  Morning  came,  and 
we  cooked  breakfast  at  fires  made  of  fence 
rails.  We  were  in  the  best  agricultural  region 
that  I  had  seen  in  Virginia.  Many  negro  slaves 
were  working  in  the  fields.  Some  of  the  slaves 
I  did  not  quit  their  work  to  look  at  us.  I  saw 
none  drop  their  tools  and  hail  us  with  vocifer- 
•us  shouts  as  liberators  and  eagerly  join  us,  as 
had  been  led  to  believe  they  would. 
Many  of  the  farm-houses  we  passed  were 
mansions  built  of  brick,  and  around  which  piaz 
zas  ran.  On  these  women  and  children,  and 
old,  white-haired  men  stood  in  silent  groups, 
and  looked  intently  at  us.  I  saw  no  young 
men,  no  white  men  fit  for  war,  around  any  of 
these  farm-houses.  There  were  many  barns  and 
sheds  and  groups  of  negro  quarters.  We,  the 
ever-hungry,  predatory  enlisted  men,  quickly 
discovered  that  we  were  marching  through  a 
corn-  and  tobacco  and  stock-raising  country,  and 
we  raided  tobacco  barns  in  a  quiet  manner,  and 
killed  some  sheep  and  many  chickens,  and  much 
food  was  stolen  from  the  farm-houses.  I  paid  a 
pale-faced  woman,  whose  little  children  clung 
to  her  skirts  as  she  stood  in  her  kitchen  door 
appealing  to  the  Union  soldiers  not  to  strip  her 
of  stores  as  she  had  children  to  feed,  $2  in 


104        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

greenbacks  for  a  piece  of  sweet  bacon,  which  I 
had  found  in  a  barn,  where  an  aged  negro  stood, 
solemnly  assuring  the  predatory  soldiers  that 
there  was  not  a  bite  of  food  on  the  place.  This 
at  a  large  brick  house  a  mile  or  two  outside  of 
Bowling  Green. 

Before  noon  we  came  to  the  village  of  Bowl 
ing  Green,  where  many  pretty  girls  stood  at 
cottage  windows  or  doors,  and  even  as  close  to 
the  despised  Yankees  as  the  garden  gates,  and 
looked  scornfully  at  us  as  we  marched  through 
the  pretty  town  to  kill  their  fathers  and  broth 
ers.  There  was  one  very  attractive  girl,  black- 
eyed  and  curly-haired,  and  clad  in  a  scanty 
calico  gown,  who  stood  by  a  well  in  a  house 
yard.  She  looked  so  neat,  so  fresh,  so  ladylike 
and  pretty,  that  I  ran  through  the  open  gate 
and  asked  her  if  I  might  fill  my  canteen  with 
water  from  the  well.  And  she,  the  haughty 
Virginia  maiden,  refused  to  notice  me.  She 
calmly  looked  through  me  and  over  me,  and 
never  by  the  slightest  sign  acknowledged  my 
presence  ;  but  I  filled  my  canteen,  and  drank 
her  health.  I  liked  her  spirit. 

It  was  a  weary  march,  but  a  march  during 
which  there  was  no  straggling.  We  could  look 
back  from  hill  tops  and  see  the  long  steel-tipped 


THE  FLANK  MOVEMENT.  10$ 

column  stretching  for  miles  behind  us.  There 
was  some  anxiety  among  the  enlisted  men,  but 
not  much,  as  we  were  confident  that  we  would 
not  be  called  upon  to  fight  more  than  half  of 
Lee's  army,  if  we  had  to  fight  at  all,  and  we  be 
lieved  that  the  Second  Corps,  which  we  judged 
to  number  30,000  men,  could  whip  an  equal 
number  of  Confederates  in  the  open.  At  least 
we  could  try  it,  and  a  fight  of  that  character 
would  have  been  an  agreeable  change  from  as 
saulting  earthworks.  At  noon  we  halted  for 
dinner,  and  spent  an  hour  or  two  in  cooking 
and  eating,  and  in  lying  on  the  ground  talking 
and  smoking  the  good  tobacco  we  had  stolen, 
and  in  sleeping. 

Again  we  marched.  By  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon  one  of  my  comrades  called  my  atten 
tion  to  a  dust  column  which  rose  away  off  to 
our  right  behind  the  crest  of  a  ridge,  and  which 
moved  parallel  with  us.  The  news  spread  up 
and  down  the  column  that  we  had  been  out 
marched,  and  that  wherever  we  stopped  there 
we  would  find  Longstreet's  corps.  How  did  we 
know  that  Longstreet's  soldiers  were  to  oppose 
us  ?  I  cannot  tell.  But  I  record  the  fact  that 
we  did  know  it,  as  an  instance  of  the  accuracy 
of  the  information  the  enlisted  men  of  the 


106        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

Army  of  the  Potomac  possessed.  That  after 
noon  I  dropped  behind  the  battery  to  talk  to 
some  country  boys  who  were  serving  in  an  in 
fantry  regiment — boys  who  were  raised  in 
Columbia  County,  New  York,  and  who  lived  on 
farms  that  surrounded  my  family's  homestead. 
To  them  I  expressed  my  anxiety  at  being  so 
far  in  advance  of  the  main  army.  I  was  prompt 
ly  reassured  and  encouraged  by  a  young  line 
sergeant,  who  said  : 

"  That  dust  you  see  over  yonder  is  kicked  up 
by  Longstreet's  men.  They  were  on  the  Con 
federate  right  at  Spottsylvania.  As  soon  as 
the  Confederates  missed  the  Second  Corps 
from  the  battle-line,  they  knew  that  we  had 
been  dispatched  on  a  flanking  movement,  and 
Lee  started  Longstreet  toward  Richmond  to 
intercept  us.  Now  we  have  been  fighting 
Longstreet's  corps  for  two  weeks  and  better, 
and  we  all  know  that  he  has  not  more  than 
fifteen  thousand  soldiers.  The  Confederates 
are  not  sufficiently  numerous  to  fight  us  in  the 
open.  Longstreet  will  not  attack  the  Second 
Corps  unless  he  is  heavily  reinforced.  There 
lies  our  only  danger.  See  here,  Frank,"  he 
said,  as  he  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder  to  call 
my  attention  away  from  the  dust  column.  "  See 


THE  FLANK  MOVEMENT.  IO/ 

here.  Listen  to  a  little  common-sense.  Lee 
knows  that  the  Second  Corps  has  been  detached 
from  our  main  army.  He  knows  that  Grant 
has  not  more  than  sixty-five  thousand  men  re 
maining  with  him.  "  Now,  my  boy,"  he  solemnly 
said,  "  if  Lee  had  a  sufficient  number  of  men  in 
his  entire  army  to  enable  him  to  whip  Grant's 
sixty-five  thousand,  he  would  have  jumped  on 
him  savagely  the  very  instant  he  discovered 
that  the  Second  Corps  had  been  detached.  The 
fact  that  he  has  not  sufficient  men  to  whip 
sixty-five-thousand  Union  soldiers  is  plainly  in 
dicated  by  that  dust  column.  If  Lee  had  fifty 
thousand  men  he  would  probably  risk  a  battle 
with  Grant's  weakened  army.  He  has  not  got 
them.  The  only  danger  we  are  in,  is  that  Lee 
may  be  marching  with  his  entire  army  to  jump 
on  the  Second  Corps.  If  that  is  his  plan,  and 
I  think  it  is  not,  he  had  better  put  it  into  exe 
cution  speedily,  because  in  less  than  an  hour 
after  we  halt  this  evening  we  will  be  intrenched, 
and  once  behind  earthworks  the  Second  Corps 
can  whip  the  entire  Confederate  army."  The 
line  sergeant  clearly  expressed  the  thoughts 
and  feelings  of  all  the  intelligent  volunteers.  I 
have  quoted  him  to  illustrate  the  accuracy  of 
military  reasoning  that  enabled  the  enlisted 


108         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

men  of  American  blood  to  correctly  judge  of 
the  state  of  the  campaign.  How  did  the  men 
acquire  their  information  ?  From  prisoners 
whom  they  captured,  from  fellow-soldiers  serv 
ing  in  the  cavalry,  from  negroes,  and  above  all 
from  the  "  news-gatherers,"  the  soldiers  who 
walked  the  battle-lines  in  the  night. 

Morally  strengthened  and  braced  up  by  the 
sergeant's  talk,  I  ran  ahead  and  rejoined  my 
gun.  Toward  evening  I  saw  troops  defiling  to 
the  left  of  the  road  ahead  of  us,  and  as  soon  as 
they  halted  dirt  began  to  fly  and  intrenchments 
to  rise  out  of  the  ground.  My  battery  was  di 
rected  to  camp  on  a  slight  elevation,  which  a 
staff  officer  indicated  with  a  gleaming  sabre. 
We  swung  into  battery.  To  our  front  and 
right,  distant  about  a  thousand  yards,  was  a 
large  white  store,  and  near  it  stood  a  couple  of 
smaller  buildings.  The  men  of  Battery  K, 
Fourth  United  States  Artillery,  which  stood  in 
battery  to  our  left,  manned  a  gun,  and  almost 
instantly  a  shell  screamed  through  the  air  and 
burst  close  to  a  group  of  Confederate  scouts, 
who  sat  on  their  horses  in  front  of  the  white 
store  watching  us.  They  disappeared,  and  I 
saw  no  other  Confederate  soldiers  at  Milford 
Station.  Our  line  of  .defence  was  quickly 


THF  FLANK  MOVEMENT.  IOQ 

chosen,  and  at  once  the  men  began  to  fortify 
it.  Here  they  pushed  the  line  out,  there  they 
drew  it  back,  taking  advantage  of  the  ground 
and  fortifying  it  as  their  experience  had  taught 
them  was  best.  In  an  hour  a  line  of  earth 
works  was  thrown  up  which  the  Second  Corps 
could  have  held  for  days  against  all  the  Confed 
erates  whom  Lee  could  have  massed  to  the  as 
sault.  To  our  left,  distant  about  eight  hundred 
yards,  and  in  a  point  of  heavy  oak  timber,  lay 
an  Irish  brigade — tough,  jovial  fellows,  and 
stanch  fighters.  They  built  the  crack  intrench- 
ment  of  the  line. 

The  hard  marching  of  the  flank  movement 
was  over.  That  night  we  slept,  and  the  next 
day  we  slept  again  and  rested.  North  Anna 
was  ahead  of  us.  The  Wilderness  and  Spott- 
sylvania,  where  so  many  of  our  comrades  lay 
dead  on  the  ground,  were  of  the  past. 


VII. 

STUDYING   CONFEDERATE    EARTHWORKS   AT 
NORTH   ANNA. 

MAY  23,  1864.  The  Army  of  the  Potomac 
approached  the  North  Anna  River. 
In  front  of  the  Second  Corps  (Hancock's)  was 
the  Chesterfield  wagon  bridge,  and  a  mile  below 
a  railroad  bridge  spanned  the  river.  The  wagon 
bridge  was  protected  by  a  heavy  but  small 
earthwork  on  one  side  of  the  river.  The  rear 
of  this  work  was  open.  It  was  full  of  men,  but 
there  were  no  guns  in  it.  In  front  of  it  we 
could  plainly  see  the  Confederate  pickets  lying 
in  their  rifle-pits.  The  railroad  bridge  was  pro 
tected  by  a  heavy  two-gun  fortification  stand 
ing  on  the  other  side  of  the  river.  A  mile 
beyond  the  river  the  main  line  of  Confederates 
lay  in  their  trenches.  While  our  troops  were 
deploying,  the  battery  I  belonged  to  was  or 
dered  to  take  position  on  the  crest  of  a  ridge 
that  overlooked  the  railroad  bridge  earthwork, 


CONFEDERATE  EARTHWORKS.  Ill 

and  to  begin  firing  at  once.  The  officer  who 
brought  our  captain  this  order  dwelt  strongly 
on  the  necessity  of  haste  in  getting  into  action, 
as  the  infantry,  so  he  said,  were  to  assault  both 
earthworks.  I  smiled  at  the  absurd  statement 
that  tired,  exhausted  infantry  were  to  assault  an 
earthwork  that  lay  on  the  other  side  of  a  deep 
stream ;  but  the  pace  at  which  the  battery 
moved  caused  the  smile  to  fade  from  my  face  as 
I  ran  at  the  side  of  my  gun.  We  swung  into 
action  on  the  crest  of  the  ridge.  The  sponge 
staffs  were  unchained,  and  the  gunners  quickly 
sprang  too  and  fro,  in  and  out,  from  the  guns, 
and  we  opened  the  battle  as  far  as  the  Second 
Corps  was  concerned.  There  was  a  loud  noise 
behind  us.  I  looked  back  as  I  sprang  clear  of 
the  muzzle  of  the  gun  I  was  serving  and  saw 
other  batteries  galloping  toward  us.  Bugles 
were  blown,  officers  shouted,  and  the  guns  went 
into  battery  alongside  of  us,  until  about  thirty 
pieces  surmounted  the  crest.  Then  a  brigade 
of  infantry  came  marching  up  to  support  us. 
There  were  not  a  sufficient  number  of  Confed 
erates  on  our  side  of  the  river,  outside  of  the 
Chesterfield  works,  to  have  captured  a  beehive, 
let  alone  thirty  pieces  of  artillery.  We  fired 
rapidly  and  accurately  at  the  sand-bank  behind 


1 1 2          RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVA  TE. 

which  the  Confederate  artillerists  lurked,  and 
with  the  usual  effect,  of  doing  nothing.  I 
saw  shells  burst  all  over  the  work  and  tiny 
clouds  of  dust  rise  from  it,  as  though  it  were  a 
big  puff  ball  which  we  occasionally  and  gently 
squeezed.  The  rebel  guns  replied  slowly. 
Thirty  guns  against  two  old  howitzers  !  It  was 
rather  a  one-sided  fight,  and  the  inequality  was 
calculated  to  make  the  service  of  the  howitzers 
rather  slow,  but  still  they  were  served.  We 
could  see  the  Confederate  gunners  rise  out  of 
the  ground,  could  see  them  load  and  then  sink 
out  of  sight,  could  see  the  gunner  bend  over 
the  piece  and  then  raise  his  hand  to  No.  4  ;  in 
stantly  a  cloud  of  smoke  would  shoot  out  of 
the  gun,  and  from  it  a  black  ball  would  rise  and 
come  screeching  toward  us.  We  were,  as  I 
said,  firing  rapidly,  and  shell  were  bursting  over 
the  Confederate  earthwork  at  the  rate  of  about 
three  in  two  seconds.  We  had  got  the  range 
to  an  inch.  The  plain  beyond  the  work  was 
furrowed  and  torn  with  shell.  The  works  must 
have  quivered  with  the  steady  and  heavy 
shocks.  I  can  imagine  no  hotter  place  than 
that  little  fort  was.  I  tired  of  my  work,  and 
asked  a  spare  man  to  take  the  sponge  while  I 
rested.  He  cheerfully  did  so,  and  I  sat  on  the 


CONFEDERA  TE  EARTHWORKS.  1 1 3 

ground  to  one  side  of  the  battery,  and  filled  a 
pipe  with  plug  tobacco,  and  smoked  and 
watched  the  Confederate  earthwork  through  my 
field-glass.  I  had  about  lost  interest  in  the  one 
sided  affair,  when  I  saw  an  officer  on  a  milk- 
white  horse  ride  forth  from  the  woods  in  the 
rear  of  the  Confederate  work.  Confident  that 
he  would  be  torn  to  bits  by  shells,  I  dropped 
my  pipe,  and  glued  my  glass  on  him  and 
waited  for  the  tragedy.  He  trotted  briskly 
over  the  plain  where  shell  were  thickly  bursting, 
and  into  the  fort.  I  saw  him  hand  a  paper  to 
the  officer  in  command  of  the  work.  He  sat 
calmly  on  his  horse,  and  talked  and  gesticulated 
as  quietly  as  though  he  were  on  dress  parade. 
My  heart  went  out  to  that  man.  I  hoped  he 
would  not  be  killed.  I  wished  I  had  the  aiming 
of  the  guns.  He  lifted  his  hand  in  salute  to 
the  visor  of  his  cap.  He  turned  his  white 
horse  and  rode  slowly  across  the  open  ground, 
where  shot  and  shell  were  thickly  coursing. 
Dust  rose  above  him.  Tiny  clouds  of  smoke 
almost  hid  him  from  view.  Shot  struck  the 
ground  and  skipped  past  him,  but  he  did  not 
urge  his  horse  out  of  a  walk.  He  rode  as 
though  lost  in  meditation  and  deaf  to  the  up 
roar  that  raged  around  him.  He  rode  into  the 


1 14         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVA  TE. 

woods,  disappeared  in  the  timber,  and  was  safe. 
With  a  "  Thank  God  that  that  brave  man  was 
not  killed/'  I  rejoined  my  gun  and  resumed 
work  at  the  fruitless  task  of  trying  to  batter 
down  a  sand-bank. 

Below  us  to  our  right,  infantry  had  taken 
position  in  a  sheltered  ravine.  There  were  two 
thousand  men  lying  down  there.  There  were 
a  few  men  along  the  crest  of  the  ravine  on  the 
side  next  to  the  Chesterfield  bridge  head,  and 
they  continually  made  motions  to  their  com 
rades  who  were  lying  in  the  bottom.  Farther 
to  the  right  were  two  sections  of  artillery  in 
action.  They  were  firing  rapidly  at  the  bridge 
head,  which  did  not  answer.  We  pounded  away 
at  our  fort  for  a  couple  of  hours  longer,  then, 
about  six  o'clock,  I  heard  the  familiar  charging 
cheer.  Looking  to  the  right  I  saw  a  heavy  line 
of  blue-coated  infantry  move  swiftly  forth  from 
a  forest,  and  rapidly  run  at  the  fort  in  a  fairly 
good  line.  The  Confederate  pickets  fired  and 
then  ran  to  their  fortification,  which  instantly 
began  to  smoke  in  jets  and  puffs  and  curls  as 
an  immense  pudding,  and  men  in  the  blue- 
coated  line  fell  headlong,  or  backward,  or  sank 
into  little  heaps.  The  charging  infantry,  Price's 
and  Eagan's  brigades  of  the  Second  Corps,  were 


CONFEDERA  TE  EAR  TH  WORKS.  1 1 5 

accompanied  by  an  officer  on  horseback,  who, 
in  the  most  gallant  manner  rode  his  horse  up 
and  down  the  charging  line  and  bravely  en 
couraged  his  men,  and  excited  the  admiration 
of  the  artillerymen  who  saw  him.  Then  the 
brigade  in  the  ravine  stood  up  and  remained 
quiet.  They  were  to  make  the  second  assault 
in  case  the  first  failed  I  suppose  ;  but  the  first 
did  not  fail.  They  swept  on  and  ran  over  the 
earthwork,  out  of  which  the  Confederate  in 
fantry  ran,  and  streamed  across  the  bridge.  Our 
colors  were  on  the  work.  We  cheered,  and  our 
supports  cheered.  And  then  a  fierce  charging 
yell  floated  to  us  from  the  right,  and  smoke 
began  to  curl  above  the  portion  of  the  line  held 
by  the  Fifth  Corps.  Then  there  was  real  fight 
ing  going  on,  not  driving  two  hundred  or  four 
hundred  men  out  of  an  earthwork  by  launching 
several  thousand  picked  troops  against  them. 
We  could  see  a  part  of  the  fight  the  Fifth 
Corps  was  engaged  in,  and  could  see  that  they 
had  a  hard  struggle.  It  was  as  gallant  a  fight 
as  ever  I  saw ;  but  the  Fifth  Corps  got  decided 
ly  the  worst  of  it,  and  came  mighty  near  being 
driven  into  the  river.  We  were  very  anxious 
about  this  fighting,  as  we  always  were  about 
heavy  fighting  that  we  did  not  share  in.  The 


1 1 6         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVA  TE. 

unseen  danger  is  the  alarming  one  to  the  en 
listed  men.  Before  midnight  two  privates  of 
the  Twentieth  Maine  Infantry,  then  serving 
with  Griffin's  division  of  the  Fifth  Corps,  came 
into  the  battery  to  gather  news.  They  told  us 
that  the  Fifth  Corps  had  been  surprised  ;  that 
they  had  been  ordered  at  five  o'clock  to  biv 
ouac  on  the  line  they  held,  and  that  at  that 
hour  General  Warren  was  soundly  sleeping  in  a 
house  north  of  the  river  and  near  the  Jericho 
ford.  They  said  that  the  adjutant  of  their 
regiment  had  twice  crossed  the  river  to  carry 
word  to  Warren  from  General  Griffin  that  the 
Confederates  were  massing  for  the  attack,  and 
that  the  first  time  he  was  unable  to  see  Warren, 
being  refused  admittance  to  his  room,  and  that 
on  the  second  visit  he  was  so  vehement  in  his 
demands  that  he  was  admitted  to  the  presence 
of  the  general,  who  snubbed  him,  and  told  him 
that  the  rebels  would  not  attack ;  and  after 
ordering  the  troops  to  camp  on  the  line,  he 
turned  over  and  slept.  The  adjutant  returned 
to  Griffin  and  reported,  and  had  hardly  done  so 
when  the  Confederate  assault  was  delivered. 
These  intelligent  Yankee  infantrymen  assured 
us  that  this  story  of  the  negligence  of  Warren 
was  true,  and  that  Griffin's  division  had  saved 


CONFEDERA  TE  EAR  TH  WORKS.  1 1 7 

the  Fifth  Corps  from  rout  when  the  battle 
opened,  and  that  later,  when  Hill  massed 
against  Cutler's  division  and  broke  it  with  a 
savage  blow,  Colonel  McCoy,  with  the  Eighty- 
third  Pennsylvania,  caught  the  Confederate 
charging  column  in  flank  and  whipped  them 
and  captured  over  one  thousand  prisoners. 
"  And  haggard,  hungry-looking  men  they  are, 
too,"  said  one  of  our  Yankee  visitors.  "  Boys," 
he  added  impressively,  "  we  are  not  living  on 
the  fat  of  the  land  ;  but  I  looked  into  the  haver 
sacks  of  some  of  Hill's  men  as  they  passed  to 
the  rear,  and  none  of  them  had  more  than  a 
couple  of  handfuls  of  corn-meal  in  their  canvas 
sacks.  How  they  fight  on  corn-meal  straight 
is  more  than  I  can  understand,"  he  added  re 
flectively.  Our  visitors  arose,  cast  their  eyes 
around  in  search  of  a  full  haversack,  and,  seeing 
that  we  regarded  their  inquisitive  glances  with 
hostile  eyes,  they  laughed  and  walked  off,  first 
inviting  us  to  visit  them  when  they  got  into 
permanent  camp  and  eat  doughnuts. 

Next  morning  we  crossed  the  river.  We 
passed  the  fort  which  we  had  bombarded  the 
previous  day.  Two  men  with  shovels  could 
have  repaired  the  damage  it  had  suffered  in  two 
hours,  and  we  had  buried  tons  of  good  iron  in 


1 1 8         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVA  TE. 

it.  As  soon  as  we  drew  away  from  the  river 
bank  and  reached  a  point  where  we  could  plain 
ly  see  the  Confederate  lines,  we  saw  that  Lee's 
soldiers  were  skilfully  intrenched  and  that  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  could  not  dislodge  them. 
That  fact  was  instantly  comprehended  by  the 
enlisted  men  who  inspected  the  works  at  close 
range.  We  threw  up  parallel  intrenchments 
and  impatiently  waited  for  our  generals  to  dis 
cover  that  the  position  could  not  be  forced. 
The  Confederate  line  was  much  shorter  than 
ours,  and  was  shaped  like  a  wide-opened  ox 
bow.  They  could  have  supplied  troops  to  any 
point  attacked.  Our  men  shrank  from  assault 
ing  these  works.  The  pickets  had  been  close 
to  them,  and  they  one  and  all  asserted  that  the 
position  was  impregnable  when  held  by  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia. 

One  day,  as  we  lay  in  our  earthworks  under 
a  sharpshooters'  fire,  I  saw  a  civilian  clad  in  a 
long  linen  duster  ride  toward  our  battery.  I 
thought  he  had  a  queer  idea  of  a  pleasure  trip. 
To  my  great  amazement  he  rode  into  the  bat 
tery  and  asked  if  I  were  present.  I  was,  and 
promptly  said  so.  "  Well,  if  you  are  the  man> 
and  I  guess  you  are,  here  is  a  package  of  to 
bacco  your  father  has  sent  to  you,"  he  said, 


CON  FED  ERA  TE  EAR  TH  WORKS.  1 1 Q 

handing  me  a  couple  of  pounds  of  plug  tobacco. 
This,  under  a  brisk  picket  and  sharpshooters' 
fire.  He  dismounted  from  his  horse  and  stood 
by  his  side,  and  talked  to  me  for  a  moment  or 
two,  and  I  heartily  wished  he  would  go  away. 
He  told  me  that  he  was  a  New  York  Tribune  cor- 
spondent.  He  smiled,  pointed  to  a  couple  of 
dead  men,  and  said,  as  he  raised  his  eyebrows 
inquiringly  :  "  Rather  warm  here,  eh  ?  Sharp 
shooters  got  the  range,  but,"  looking  toward 
the  woods  where  those  murderous  men  lurked, 
"  it  is  a  long  shot."  Then  he  bade  me  good-by, 
and  coolly  mounted  and  deliberately  rode  off. 

One  day  some  men  of  the  Fortieth  New  York 
Infantry  came  to  my  battery  to  gamble.  I  took 
a  hand  in  a  game  of  seven-up  for  a  dollar  a  cor 
ner  and  five  on  the  rubber.  We  spread  a  blan 
ket  on  the  ground  behind  the  earthworks  and 
squatted  around  it.  My  partner,  a  Fortieth 
New  York  soldier,  was  a  heavy-jawed  light- 
haired,  blue-eyed  lad  of  nineteen,  an  Albany 
boy,  who  played  well,  and  fought  well  too.  He 
was  a  wit,  and  when  in  the  humor  would  make 
a  whole  regiment  of  sick  men  laugh.  We  were 
a  few  dollars  winners,  and  he  was  graphically 
and  humorously  describing  the  brigade  of  regu 
lars  running  against  a  swamp  in  the  Wilder- 


120         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVATE. 

ness,  and  the  mythical  conversation  between 
the  gray-haired  commander  and  the  second 
lieutenant,  just  out  of  West  Point,  as  the  old 
soldier  asked  if  there  was  any  thing  in  the  new 
books  about  getting  a  brigade  across  a  swamp, 
was  delicious.  As  we  laughed  the  handsome 
lad  fell  face  down  into  the  blanket  and  began 
to  vomit  blood.  We  grabbed  him,  turned  him 
over,  tore  up  his  shirt,  and  saw  where  a  ball 
had  entered  his  side,  cutting  a  gash  instead  of 
a  hole.  The  wounded  soldier  did  not  speak. 
The  blood  rushed  out  of  his  mouth,  his  eyes 
glazed,  his  jaw  dropped  —  he  was  dead.  A 
chance  ball  had  struck  the  tire  of  one  of  the 
wheels  of  the  No.  I  gun  and  glanced  forward 
and  killed  this  delightful  comrade.  His  death 
ended  the  game.  We  put  his  body  alongside 
of  a  couple  of  other  dead  men  and  buried  the 
three  that  night. 

The  picket-firing  and  sharpshooting  at  North 
Anna  was  exceedingly  severe  and  murderous. 
We  were  greatly  annoyed  by  it,  and  as  a  cam 
paign  cannot  be  decided  by  killing  a  few  hun 
dred  enlisted  men — killing  them  most  unfairly 
and  when, they  were  of  necessity  exposed, — it 
did  seem  as  though  the  sharpshooting  pests 
should  have  been  suppressed.  Our  sharp- 


CONFEDERA  TE  EAR  TH  WORKS.  1 2 1 

shooters  were  as  bad  as  the  Confederates,  and 
neither  of  them  were  of  any  account  as  far  as 
decisive  results  were  obtained.  They  could 
sneak  around  trees  or  lurk  behind  stumps,  or 
cower  in  wells  or  in  cellars,  and  from  the  safety 
of  their  lairs  murder  a  few  men.  Put  the 
sharpshooters  in  battle-line  and  they  were  no 
better,  no  more  effective,  than  the  infantry  of 
the  line,  and  they  were  not  half  as  decent. 
There  was  an  unwritten  code  of  honor  among 
the  infantry  that  forbade  the  shooting  of  men 
while  attending  to  the  imperative  calls  of  na 
ture,  and  these  sharpshooting  brutes  were  con 
stantly  violating  that  rule.  I  hated  sharp 
shooters,  both  Confederate  and  Union,  in  those 
days,  and  I  was  always  glad  to  see  them  killed. 
Before  we  left  North  Anna  I  discovered  that 
our  infantry  were  tired  of  charging  earthworks. 
The  ordinary  enlisted  men  assert  that  one  good 
man  behind  an  earthwork  was  equal  to  three 
good  men  outside  of  it,  and  that  they  did  not 
propose  to  charge  many  more  intrenched  lines. 
Here  I  first  heard  savage  protests  against  a 
continuance  of  the  generalship  which  consisted 
in  launching  good  troops  against  intrenched 
works  which  the  generals  had  not  inspected. 
Battle-tried  privates  came  into  the  battery  and 


122         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVATE. 

sneeringly  inquired  if  the  corps  and  army  com 
manders  had  been  to  see  our  line.  Of  course 
we  replied  "  No."  "Well,"  said  one  sergeant 
of  the  Pennsylvania  reserve,  "  I  have  fought  in 
this  army  for  three  years,  and  in  no  other  cam 
paign  have  I  seen  so  many  general  officers  shirk 
as  they  have  in  this  one.  I  saw  the  Confeder 
ate  lines  at  close  range  last  night,"  he  added, 
"  and  they  cannot  be  assaulted  with  any  pros 
pect  of  success.  If  Grant,  or  Meade,  or  Han 
cock,  or  Warren,  or  Wright,  or  Burnside  would 
inspect  those  works  at  close  range,  they  wrould 
see  the  folly  of  staying  here,  where  we  are 
losing  two  hundred  or  three  hundred  men  every 
day  by  sharpshooters.  We  ought  to  get  out  of 
here  and  try  it  farther  down."  He  but  ex 
pressed  what  we  all  thought.  At  North  Anna 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  Potomac  army,  the 
men  who  did  the  fighting,  and  who  had  been 
under  fire  for  three  weeks,  began  to  grow  dis 
couraged. 

We  lay  for  three  days  in  the  trenches  at 
North  Anna.  Three  days  of  woe  and  sorrow 
and  hardship.  Three  days,  during  which  there 
had  been  some  exceedingly  severe  fighting,  and 
which  had  cost  us  hundreds  of  men  and  line 
officers.  How  we  longed  to  get  away  from 


CONFEDERA  TE  EA  R  TH  WORKS.  1 2  3 

North  Anna,  where  we  had  not  the  slightest 
chance  of  success,  and  how  we  feared  that 
Grant  would  keep  sending  us  to  the  slaughter  ! 
Joyfully  we  received  the  order  to  march  on  the 
night  of  May  26th.  Eagerly  the  tired  troops 
fell  into  line  behind  their  foul  intrenchments. 
With  pleasure  we  recrossed  the  North  Anna 
and  resumed  the  flank  movement  to  the  south. 
That  night,  after  crossing  the  river,  we  rested, 
and  had  a  good  night's  sleep,  undisturbed  by 
picket-firing.  We  awoke  the  next  morning  to 
find  the  rest  of  the  army  gone,  and  we  started 
after  them,  being  for  the  first  and  last  time 
during  the  campaign  in  the  rear.  Before  us,  in 
the  distance,  rose  the  swells  of  Cold  Harbor, 
and  we  marched  steadily  and  joyfully  to  our 
doom. 


VIII. 

THE    BATTLE    OF   COLD   HARBOR. 

ON  the  morning  of  May  28,  1864,  the  Sec 
ond  Corps  crossed  the  Pamunkey  River. 
Close  by  the  bridge  on  which  we  crossed,  and 
to  the  right  of  it,  under  a  tree,  stood  Generals 
Grant,  Meade,  and  Hancock,  and  a  little  back 
of  them  was  a  group  of  staff  officers.  Grant 
looked  tired.  He  was  sallow.  He  held  a  dead 
cigar  firmly  between  his  teeth.  His  face  was 
as  expressionless  as  a  pine  board.  He  gazed 
steadily  at  the  enlisted  men  as  they  marched 
by,  as  though  trying  to  read  their  thoughts,  and 
they  gazed  intently  at  him.  He  had  the  power 
to  send  us  to  our  deaths,  and  we  were  curious 
to  see  him.  But  the  men  did  not  evince  the 
slightest  enthusiasm.  None  cheered  him,  none 

o 

saluted  him.  Grant  stood  silently  looking  at 
his  troops  and  listening  to  Hancock,  who  was 
talking  and  gesticulating  earnestly.  Meade 
stood  by  Grant's  side  and  thoughtfully  stroked 
his  own  face.  I  stepped  from  the  column  and 
124 


THE  BATTLE  OF  COLD  HARBOR.          12$ 

filled  my  canteens  in  the  Pamunkey  River,  and 
looked  my  fill  at  the  generals  and  their  staffs, 
and  then  ran  by  the  marching  troops  through  a 
gantlet  of  chaff,  as  "  Go  it,  artillery,"  "  The  ar 
tillery  is  advancing,"  "  Hurry  to  your  gun,  my 
son,  or  the  battle  will  be  lost,"  and  similar  sar 
castically  good-natured  remarks,  which  were 
calculated  to  stimulate  my  speed. 

During  the  afternoon  we  heard  considerable 
firing  in  front  of  us,  and  toward  evening  we 
marched  over  ground  where  dead  cavalrymen 
were  plentifully  sprinkled.  The  blue  and  the 
gray  lay  side  by  side,  and  their  arms  by  them. 
With  the  Confederates  lay  muzzle-loading  car 
bines,  the  ramrods  of  which  worked  upward  on 
a  swivel  hinge  fastened  near  the  muzzle  of  the 
weapon.  It  was  an  awkward  arm  and  far  in 
ferior  to  the  Spencer  carbine  with  which  our 
cavalry  was  armed.  There  were  ancient  and 
ferocious-looking  horse-pistols,  such  as  used  to 
grace  the  Bowery  stage,  lying  by  the  dead  Con 
federates.  The  poverty  of  the  South  was 
plainly  shown  by  the  clothing  and  equipment 
of  her  dead.  These  dead  men  were  hardly  stiff 
when  we  saw  them.  All  of  their  pockets  had 
been  turned  inside  out.  That  night,  while 
searching  for  fresh,  clean  water,  I  found  several 


126         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVATE. 

dead  cavalrymen  in  the  woods,  where  they  had 
probably  crawled  after  being  wounded.  I 
struck  a  match  so  as  to  see  one  of  these  men 
plainly,  and  was  greatly  shocked  to  see  large 
black  beetles  eating  the  corpse.  I  looked  at  no 
more  dead  men  that  night. 

The  next  day  the  sound  of  battle  arose  again. 
At  distant  points  it  would  break  out  furiously 
and  then  die  down.  In  our  immediate  front 
heavy  skirmishing  was  going  on,  and  wounded 
men  began  to  drift  to  the  rear  in  search  of  hos 
pitals.  They  said  that  there  was  a  stream  of 
water,  swamps,  and  a  line  of  earthworks,  behind 
which  lay  the  Confederate  infantry,  in  our  front, 
and  that  we  could  not  get  to  the  works.  At  no 
time  did  the  fire  rise  to  a  battle's  volume  ;  it 
was  simply  heavy  and  continuous  skirmishing, 
in  which  our  men  fought  at  great  disadvantage, 
and  were  severely  handled.  Finding  that  these 
works  were  too  strong  to  be  taken  by  assault, 
Grant  moved  the  army  to  the  left.  On  June 
1st  we  heard  heavy  fighting  to  our  left,  and 
that  night  we  learned  that  a  portion  of  the 
Sixth  Corps,  aided  by  ten  thousand  of  Butler's 
men  from  Bermuda  Hundreds,  had  forced  the 
Chickahominy  River  at  a  loss  of  three  thousand 
men,  and  that  they  held  the  ground  they  had 


THE  BATTLE  OF  COLD  HARBOR.          12? 

taken.  The  news-gatherers  said  that  the  Con 
federates  were  strongly  intrenched,  and  evi 
dently  had  no  intention  of  fighting  in  the  open. 
We  knew  that  a  bloody  battle  was  close  at 
hand,  and  instead  of  being  elated  the  enlisted 
men  were  depressed  in  spirits.  That  night  the 
old  soldiers  told  the  story  of  the  campaign  under 
McClellan  in  1862.  They  had  fought  over 
some  of  the  ground  we  were  then  camped  on. 
Some  of  the  men  were  sad,  some  indifferent ; 
some  so  tired  of  the  strain  on  their  nerves  that 
they  wished  they  were  dead  and  their  troubles 
over.  The  infantry  knew  that  they  were  to 
be  called  upon  to  assault  perfect  earthworks, 
and  though  they  had  resolved  to  do  their  best, 
there  was  no  eagerness  for  the  fray,  and  the 
impression  among  the  intelligent  soldiers  was 
that  the  task  cut  out  for  them  was  more  than 
men  could  accomplish. 

On  June  2d  the  Second  Corps  moved  from 
the  right  to  the  left.  We  saw  many  wounded 
men  that  day.  We  crossed  a  swamp  or  marched 
around  a  swamp,  and  the  battery  I  belonged  to 
parked  in  a  ravine.  There  were  some  old  houses 
on  our  line  of  march,  but  not  a  chicken  or  a 
sheep  or  a  cow  to  be  seen.  The  land  was 
wretchedly  poor.  The  night  of  June  2d  was 


128         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVATE. 

spent  in  getting  into  battle-line.  There  was 
considerable  confusion  as  the  infantry  marched 
in  the  darkness.  In  our  front  we  could  see 
tongues  of  flames  dart  forth  from  Confederate 
rifles  as  their  pickets  fired  in  the  direction  of 
the  noise  they  heard,  and  their  bullets  sang 
high  above  our  heads.  My  battery  went  into 
position  just  back  of  a  crest  of  a  hill.  Behind 
us  was  an  alder  swamp,  where  good  drinking 
water  gushed  forth  from  many  springs.  Be 
fore  we  slept  we  talked  with  some  of  the 
Seventh  New  York  Heavy  Artillery,  and 
found  that  they  were  sad  of  heart.  They  knew 
that  they  were  to  go  into  the  fight  early 
in  the  morning,  and  they  dreaded  the  work. 
The  whole  army  seemed  to  be  greatly  de 
pressed  the  night  before  the  battle  of  Cold 
Harbor. 

Before  daybreak  of  June  3d  the  light-artillery 
men  were  aroused.  We  ate  our  scanty  break 
fast  and  took  our  positions  around  the  guns. 
All  of  us  were  loath  to  go  into  action.  In 
front  of  us  we  could  hear  the  murmurs  of  in 
fantry,  but  it  was  not  sufficiently  light  to  see 
them.  We  stood  leaning  against  the  cool  guns, 
or  resting  easily  on  the  ponderous  wheels,  and 
gazed  intently  into  the  darkness  in  the  direction 


THE  BATTLE  OF  COLD  HARBOR.         1 29 

of  the  Confederate  earthworks.  How  slowly 
dawn  came !  Indistinctly  we  saw  moving 
figures.  Some  on  foot  rearward  bound,  cow 
ards  hunting  for  safety  ;  others  on  horseback 
riding  to  and  fro  near  where  we  supposed  the 
battle-lines  to  be  ;  then  orderlies  and  servants 
came  in  from  out  the  darkness  leading  horses, 
and  we  knew  that  the  regimental  and  brigade 
commanders  were  going  into  action  on  foot. 
The  darkness  faded  slowly,  one  by  one  the 
stars  went  out,  and  then  the  Confederate  pickets 
opened  fire  briskly ;  then  we  could  see  the  Con 
federate  earthworks,  about  six  hundred  yards 
ahead  of  us — could  just  see  them  and  no  more. 
They  were  apparently  deserted,  not  a  man  was 
to  be  seen  behind  them  ;  but  it  was  still  faint 
gray  light.  One  of  our  gunners  looked  over 
his  piece  and  said  that  he  could  see  the  sights, 
but  that  they  blurred.  We  filled  our  sponge 
buckets  with  water  and  waited,  the  Confederate 
pickets  firing  briskly  at  us  the  while,  but  doing 
no  damage.  Suddenly  the  Confederate  works 
were  manned.  We  could  see  a  line  of  slouch 
hats  above  the  parapet.  Smoke  in  great  puffs 
burst  forth  from  their  line,  and  shell  began  to 
howl  by  us.  Their  gunners  were  getting  the 
range.  We  sprung  in  and  out  from  the  three- 


130         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVATE. 

inch  guns  and  replied  angrily.  To  our  left,  to 
our  right,  other  batteries  opened ;  and  along 
the  Confederate  line  cannon  sent  forth  their 
balls  searching  for  the  range.  Then  their  guns 
were  silent.  It  was  daylight.  We,  the  light- 
artillery  men,  were  heated  with  battle.  The 
strain  on  our  nerves  was  over.  In  our  front 
were  two  lines  of  blue-coated  infantry.  One 
well  in  advance  of  the  other,  and  both  lying 
down.  We  were  firing  over  them.  The  Con 
federate  pickets  sprang  out  of  their  rifle  pits 
and  ran  back  to  their  main  line  of  works.  Then 
they  turned  and  warmed  the  battery  with  long- 
range  rifle  practice,  knocking  a  man  over  here, 
killing  another  there,  breaking  the  leg  of  a 
horse  yonder,  and  generally  behaving  in  an  ex 
asperating  manner.  The  Confederate  infantry 
was  always  much  more  effective  than  their 
artillery,  and  the  battery  that  got  under  the  fire 
of  their  cool  infantry  always  suffered  severely. 
The  air  began  to  grow  hazy  with  powder  smoke. 
We  saw  that  the  line  of  slouch-hatted  heads 
had  disappeared  from  the  Confederate  earth 
works,  leaving  heads  exposed  only  at  long 
intervals.  Out  of  the  powder  smoke  came  an 
officer  from  the  battle-lines  of  infantry.  He  told 
us  to  stop  firing,  as  the  soldiers  were  about  to 


THE  BA  TTLE  OF  COLD  HARBOR.         1 3 l 

charge.  He  disappeared  to  carry  the  message  to 
other  batteries.  Our  cannon  became  silent.  The 
smoke  drifted  off  of  the  field.  I  noticed  that 
the  sun  was  not  yet  up.  Suddenly  the  fore 
most  line  of  our  ttoops,  which  were  lying  on 
the  ground  in  front  of  us,  sprang  to  their  feet 
and  dashed  at  the  Confederate  earthworks  at  a 
run.  Instantly  those  works  were  manned.  Can 
non  belched  forth  a  torrent  of  canister,  the 
works  glowed  brightly  with  musketry,  a  storm 
of  lead  and  iron  struck  the  blue  line,  cutting 
gaps  in  it.  Still  they  pushed  on,  and  on,  and 
on.  But,  how  many  of  them  fell !  They  drew 
near  the  earthworks,  firing  as  they  went,  and 
then,  with  a  cheer,  the  first  line  of  the  Red 
Division  of  the  Second  Corps  (Barlow's)  swept 
over  it.  And  there  in  our  front  lay,  sat,  and 
stood  the  second  line,  the  supports  ;  why  did 
not  they  go  forward  and  make  good  the  victory  ? 
They  did  not.  Intensely  excited,  I  watched 
the  portion  of  the  Confederate  line  which  our 
men  had  captured.  I  was  faintly  conscious  of 
terrific  firing  to  our  right  and  of  heavy  and  con 
tinuous  cheering  on  that  portion  of  our  line 
which  was  held  by  the  Fifth  and  Sixth  Corps. 
For  once  the  several  corps  had  delivered  a  sim 
ultaneous  assault,  and  I  knew  that  it  was  to  be 


I32         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVA  TE. 

now  or  never.  The  powder  smoke  curled 
lowly  in  thin  clouds  above  the  captured  works. 
Then  the  firing  became  more  and  more  thun 
derous.  The  tops  of  many  battle-flags  could 
be  seen  indistinctly,  and  then  there  was  a  heavy 
and  fierce  yell,  and  the  thrilling  battle-cry  of  the 
Confederate  infantry  floated  to  us.  "  Can  our 
men  withstand  the  charge  ?  "  I  asked  myself. 
Quickly  I  was  answered.  They  came  into  sight 
clambering  over  the  parapet  of  the  captured 
works.  All  organization  was  lost.  They  fled 
wildly  for  the  protection  of  their  second  line 
and  the  Union  guns,  and  they  were  shot  by 
scores  as  they  ran.  The  Confederate  infantry 
appeared  behind  their  works  and  nimbly  climbed 
over,  as  though  intent  on  following  up  their 
success,  and  their  fire  was  as  the  fury  of  hell. 
We  manned  the  guns  and  drove  them  to  cover 
by  bursting  shell.  How  they  yelled!  How 
they  swung  their  hats  !  And  how  quickly  their 
pickets  ran  forward  to  their  rifle  pits  and  sank 
out  of  sight !  The  swift,  brave  assault  had 
been  bravely  met  and  most  bloodily  repulsed. 
Twenty  minutes  had  not  passed  since  the  in 
fantry  had  sprung  to  their  feet,  and  ten-thou 
sand  of  our  men  lay  dead  or  wounded  on  the 
erround.  The  men  of  the  Seventh  New  York 


THE  BATTLE  OF  COLD  HARBOR.          133 

Heavy  Artillery  came  back  without  their  col 
onel.  The  regiment  lost  heavily  in  enlisted 
men  and  line  officers.  Men  from  many  com 
mands  sought  shelter  behind  the  crest  of  the 
hill  we  were  behind.  They  seemed  to  be  dazed 
and  utterly  discouraged.  They  told  of  the 
strength  of  the  Confederate  earthworks,  and  as 
serted  that  behind  the  line  we  could  see  was 
another  and  stronger  line,  and  all  the  enlisted 
men  insisted  that  they  could  not  have  taken 
the  second  line  even  if  their  supports  had  fol 
lowed  them.  These  battle-dazed  visitors  drifted 
off  after  a  while  and  found  their  regiments,  but 
some  of  them  drifted  to  the  rear  and  to  coffee 
pots.  We  drew  the  guns  back  behind  the  crest 
of  the  hill,  and  lay  down  in  the  sand  and  waited. 
I  noticed  that  the  sun  was  now  about  a  half  an 
hour  high.  Soldiers  came  to  the  front  from  the 
rear,  hunting  for  their  regiments,  which  had 
been  practically  annihilated  as  offensive  engines 
of  war.  Occasionally  a  man  fell  dead,  struck 
by  a  stray  ball  from  the  picket  line.  By  noon 
the  stragglers  were  mostly  gathered  up  and  had 
rejoined  their  regiments,  and  columns  of  troops 
began  to  move  to  and  fro  in  our  rear  in  the 
little  valley  formed  by  the  alder  swamp.  A 
column  of  infantry  marching  by  fours  passed  to 


134         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVATE. 

our  right.  I  watched  them,  listlessly  wondering 
if  they  were  going  to  get  something  to  eat,  as  I 
was  hungry.  I  saw  a  puff  of  smoke  between 
the  marchers  and  myself,  heard  the  report  of  a 
bursting  shell,  and  twelve  men  of  that  column 
were  knocked  to  the  earth.  Their  officers 
shouted,  "  Close  up  !  close  up  !  "  The  unin 
jured  men  hurriedly  closed  the  gap  and 
marched  on.  The  dead  and  wounded  men  lay 
on  the  ground,  with  their  rifles  scattered  among 
them. 

Soon  some  soldiers  came  out  of  the  woods  and 
carried  the  wounded  men  off,  but  left  the  dead 
where  they  fell.  We  buried  them  that  night. 
Then,  as  the  day  wore  away,  and  the  troops 
were  well  in  hand  again,  I  saw  staff  officers  ride 
along  the  lines,  and  then  I  saw  the  regimental 
commanders  getting  their  men  into  line.  About 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  heard  the  char 
ging  commands  given.  With  many  an  oath  at 
the  military  stupidity  which  would  again  send 
good  troops  to  useless  slaughter,  I  sprang  to  my 
feet  and  watched  the  doomed  infantry.  Men, 
whom  I  knew  well,  stood  rifle  in  hand  not  more 
than  thirty  feet  from  me,  and  I  am  happy  to 
state  that  they  continued  to  so  stand.  Not  a 
man  stirred  from  his  place.  The  army  to  a  man 


THE  BATTLE   OF  COLD  HARBOR.         135 

refused  to  obey  the  order,  presumably  from 
General  Grant,  to  renew  the  assault.  I  heard 
the  order  given,  and  I  saw  it  disobeyed.  Many 
of  the  enlisted  men  had  been  up  to  and  over 
the  Confederate  works.  They  had  seen  their 
strength,  and  they  knew  that  they  could  not  be 
taken  by  direct  assault,  and  they  refused  to 
make  a  second  attempt.  That  night  we  began 
to  intrench. 

By  daylight  we  had  our  earthwork  finished 
and  were  safe.  The  Seventh  New  York  Heavy 
Artillery,  armed  as  infantry,  were  intrenched 
about  eighty  yards  in  front  of  us.  We  were  on 
the  crest  of  a  ridge  ;  they  were  below  us.  Be 
hind  us,  for  supports,  were  two  Delaware  regi 
ments,  their  combined  strength  being  about  one 
hundred  and  twenty  men.  Back  of  us  was  the 
alder  swamp,  where  springs  of  cool  water 
gushed  forth.  The  men  in  front  of  us  had  to 
go  to  these  springs  for  water.  They  would 
draw  lots  to  see  who  should  run  across  the  dan 
gerous,  bullet-swept  ground  that  intervened  be 
tween  our  earthworks  and  theirs.  This  settled, 
the  victim  wrould  hang  fifteen  or  twenty  can 
teens  around  him  ;  then,  crouching  low  in  the 
rifle-pits,  he  would  give  a  great  jump,  and  when 
he  struck  the  ground  he  was  running  at  the  top 


136        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

of  his  speed  for  our  earthwork.  Every  Con 
federate  sharpshooter  within  range  fired  at  him. 
Some  of  these  thirsty  men  were  shot  dead  ; 
but  generally  they  ran  into  the  earthwork  with 
a  laugh.  After  filling  their  canteens,  they 
would  sit  by  our  guns  and  smoke  and  talk, 
nerving  themselves  for  the  dangerous  return. 
Adjusting  their  burden  of  canteens,  they  would 
go  around  the  end  of  our  works  on  a  run  and 
rush  back  over  the  bullet-swept  course,  and 
again  every  Confederate  sharpshooter  who  saw 
them  would  fire  at  them.  Sometimes  these 
water-carriers  would  come  to  us  in  pairs.  One 
day  two  Albany  men  leaped  into  our  battery. 
After  filling  their  canteens,  they  sat  with  us  and 
talked  of  the  beautiful  city  on  the  Hudson,  and 
finally  started  together  for  their  rifle-pits.  I 
watched  through  an  embrasure,  and  saw  one 
fall.  Instantly  he  began  to  dig  a  little  hollow 
with  his  hands  in  the  sandy  soil,  and  instantly 
the  Confederate  sharpshooters  went  to  work  at 
him.  The  dust  flew  up  on  one  side  of  him,  and 
then  on  the  other.  The  wounded  soldier  kept 
scraping  his  little  protective  trench  in  the  sand. 
We  called  to  him.  He  answered  that  his  leg 
was  broken  below  the  knee  by  a  rifle  ball. 
From  the  rifle-pits  we  heard  his  comrades. call 


THE  BATTLE   OF  COLD  HARBOR.        137 

to  him  to  take  off  his  burden  of  canteens,  to 
tie  their  strings  together,  and  to  set  them  to 
one  side.  He  did  so,  and  then  the  thirsty  men 
in  the  pits  drew  lots  to  see  who  should  risk  his 
life  for  the  water.  I  got  keenly  interested  in 
this  dicing  with  death,  and  watched  intently. 
A  soldier  sprang  out  of  the  rifle-pits.  Running 
obliquely,  he  stooped  as  he  passed  the  can 
teens,  grasped  the  strings,  turned,  and  in  a  flash 
was  safe.  Looking  through  the  embrasure,  I 
saw  the  dust  rise  in  many  little  puffs  around 
the  wounded  man,  who  was  still  digging  his 
little  trench,  and,  with  quickening  breath,  felt 
that  his  minutes  were  numbered.  I  noted  a 
conspicuous  man,  who  was  marked  with  a 
goitre,  in  the  rifle-pits,  and  recognized  him  as 
the  comrade  of  the  stricken  soldier.  He  called 
to  his  disabled  friend,  saying  that  he  was  com 
ing  for  him,  and  that  he  must  rise  when  he 
came  near  and  cling  to  him  when  he  stopped. 
The  hero  left  the  rifle-pits  on  the  run  ;  the 
wounded  man  rose  up  and  stood  on  one  foot ; 
the  runner  clasped  him  in  his  arms  ;  the  arms 
of  the  wounded  man  twined  around  his  neck, 
and  he  was  carried  into  our  battery  at  full 
speed,  and  was  hurried  to  the  rear  and  to  a  hos 
pital.  To  the  honor  of  the  Confederate  sharp- 


138        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

shooters,  be  it  said,  that  when  they  understood 
what  was  being  done  they  ceased  to  shoot. 

One  day  during  this  protracted  Cold  Harbor 
fight,  a  battery  of  Cohorn  mortars  was  placed 
in  position  in  the  ravine  behind  us.  The  cap 
tain  of  this  battery  was  a  tall,  handsome,  sweet- 
voiced  man.  He  spent  a  large  portion  of  his 
time  in  our  earthworks,  watching  the  fire  of  his 
mortars.  He  would  jump  on  a  gun  and  look 
over  the  works,  or  he  would  look  out  through 
the  embrasures.  Boy-like,  I  talked  to  him.  I 
would  have  talked  to  a  field-marshal  if  I  had 
met  one.  He  told  me  many  things  relative  to 
mortar  practice,  and  I,  in  turn,  showed  him  how 
to  get  a  fair  look  at  the  Confederate  lines  with 
out  exposing  himself  to  the  fire  of  the  sharp 
shooters,  most  of  whom  we  had  "  marked 
down."  He  playfully  accused  me  of  being 
afraid,  and  insisted  that  at  six  hundred  yards 
a  sharpshooter  could  not  hit  a  man.  But  I 
had  seen  too  many  men  killed  in  our  battery  to 
believe  that.  So  he  continued  to  jump  on 
guns  and  to  poke  his  head  into  embrasures. 
One  day  I  went  to  the  spring  after  water 
While  walking  back  I  met  four  men  carrying  a 
body  in  a  blanket.  " Who  is  that?"  I  asked. 
"  The  captain  of  the  mortars,"  was  the  reply. 


THE  BATTLE   OF  COLD  HARBOR.         139 

Stopping,  they  uncovered  his  head  for  me.  I 
saw  where  the  ball  had  struck  him  in  the  eye, 
and  saw  the  great  hole  in  the  back  of  his  head 
where  it  had  passed  out. 

The  killed  and  wounded  of  the  first  day's 
fight  lay  unburied  and  uncared  for  between  the 
lines.  The  stench  of  the  dead  men  became  un 
bearable,  and  finally  a  flag  of  truce  was  sent 
out.  There  was  a  cessation  of  hostilities  to 
bury  the  dead  and  to  succor  the  wounded.  I 
went  out  to  the  ground  in  front  of  our  picket 
line  to  talk  to  the  Confederate  soldiers,  and  to 
trade  sugar  and  coffee  for  tobacco.  Every 
corpse  I  saw  was  as  black  as  coal.  It  was  not 
possible  to  remove  them.  They  were  buried 
where  they  fell.  Our  wounded — I  mean  those 
who  had  fallen  on  the  first  day  on  the  ground 
that  lay  between  the  picket  lines — were  all 
dead.  I  saw  no  live  man  lying  on  this  ground. 
The  wounded  must  have  suffered  horribly 
before  death  relieved  them,  lying  there  exposed 
to  the  blazing  southern  sun  o'  days,  and  being 
eaten  alive  by  beetles  o'  nights. 

One  evening  just  before  sunset  I  went  to  the 
spring  to  fill  some  canteens.  Having  filled 
them,  I  loaded  my  pipe  and  smoked  in  silent 
enjoyment.  Looking  up,  I  saw  two  Confeder- 


140        RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A    PRIVATE. 

ate  infantry  soldiers  walking  slowly  down  the 
ravine.  They  were  tall,  round-shouldered  men. 
I  clasped  my  knees  and  stared  at  them.  They 
walked  toward  me,  then  halted,  and  dropping 
their  musket-butts  to  the  ground,  they  clasped 
their  hands  over  the  muzzles  of  their  rifles  and 
stared  at  me  as  I  stared  at  them.  I  could  not 
understand  what  two  fully  armed  Confederate 
soldiers  could  be  doing  within  our  lines.  After 
gazing  at  one  another  in  silence  for  an  instant, 
one  of  them  smiled  (I  could  almost  hear  the 
dirt  on  his  face  crack,  and  was  agreeably  inter 
ested  in  the  performance)  and  inquired  kindly, 
"  Howdy  ?  "  So  I  said,  still  seated  and  suck 
ing  my  pipe,  "  Howdy,"  as  that  seemed  to  be 
the  correct  form  of  salutation  in  Virginia. 

o 

Then  I  asked  indifferently  what  they  were 
doing  within  our  lines.  They  told  me  that 
they  had  been  captured  and  that  they  were  on 
their  way  to  our  rear.  That  statement  struck 
me  as  decidedly  funny.  I  did  not  believe  it, 
and  my  face  expressed  my  disbelief.  They 
then  said  that  they  were  lost,  that  they  were 
afraid  to  return  to  the  front  for  fear  of  being 
killed,  that  they  were  afraid  to  keep  on  travel 
ling  for  fear  of  running  against  the  Union  pick 
ets  on  the  flanks,  and  that  they  were  out  of 


THE  BATTLE   OF  COLD  HARBOR.        14! 

provisions  and  were  hungry.  That  last  state 
ment  appealed  strongly  to  me.  I  imagined  my 
self  prowling  between  the  front  and  the  rear  of 
the  Confederate  army,  with  an  empty  haversack 
dangling  at  my  side,  and  nothing  to  hope  for 
but  a  Confederate  prison,  and  my  heart  went 
out  to  these  men.  I  opened  my  haversack  and 
shared  my  hardtack  with  them,  and  then  showed 
them  the  road  which  led  to  our  rear.  They 
sat  down  by  the  spring  and  ate  the  hard  bread 
and  drank  of  the  cool  water,  and  talked  drawl- 
ingly  of  the  war,  and  finally  slouched  off 
to  the  rear.  At  the  time  I  thought  them  to 
be  deserters.  After  dark,  to  replenish  the 
waste  of  my  charity,  I  visited  the  camp  of 
some  loo-day  men,  and  found  a  half-filled 
haversack.  It  was  surprising  what  careless 
fellows  those  loo-day  men  were.  They  were 
always  losing  something,  haversacks  generally, 
and  we  light-artillery  men  were  constantly 
rinding  them. 

During  the  fighting  of  the  fourth  day,  which 
was  not  severe,  a  head-quarters'  orderly  rode 
into  the  battery  and  delivered  an  order  to  our 
captain.  He  read  it,  and  then  calling  me  to 
him,  handed  me  the  order  to  read.  With  mili 
tary  brevity  it  commanded  him  to  send  Private 


142        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

Frank  Wilkeson  to  army  head-quarters  at  once 
to  report  to  Adjutant-General  Seth  Williams. 
My  heart  sank.  I  had  been  stealing  haver 
sacks.  I  had  been  exceedingly  impudent  to 
some  officers.  I  had  been  doing  a  lot  of 
things  which  I  should  not  have  done,  and 
now  I  was  in  for  it.  "  Adjutant-General,"  I  re 
peated  thoughtfully  to  myself.  "  That  sounds 
rather  savage."  The  captain  said  :  "  Wash  up 
and  accompany  the  orderly.  Get  a  horse  from, 
the  chief  of  caissons  and  return  promptly." 

I  ignored  the  first  portion  of  the  order,  but 
secured  the  horse  and  rode  off,  pants  in  boots 
slouch-hatted,  flannel-shirted,  blouseless,  a  strap 
around  my  waist  and  supremely  dirty.  I  was 
tortured  with  the  belief  that  I  was  to  be  pun 
ished.  A  certain  sheep,  which  I  had  met  in  a 
field  near  Bowling  Green,  weighed  heavily  on 
me.  A  large  bunch  of  haversacks,  which  I  had 
found  o'  nights,  dangled  before  me.  I  ransacked 
my  memory  and  dragged  forth  all  my  military 
misdeeds  and  breaches  of  discipline  and  laid 
them  one  after  the  other  on  my  saddle-bow 
and  thoughtfully  turned  them  over  and  over 
and  looked  at  them,  regretfully  at  first,  then 
desperately  and  recklessly.  I  knew  that  I 
ought  to  be  court-martialed  and  that  I  de- 


THE  BATTLE   OF  COLD  HARBOR.         143 

served  to  be  shot.  I  talked  to  the  orderly,  and 
asked  what  duties  the  adjutant-general  perform 
ed  (I  had  an  idea  that  he  shot  insubordinate  pri 
vates),  and  was  immensely  relieved  to  hear  that 
he  was  the  officer  who  issued  orders — a  very 
superior  order  of  chief  clerk,  as  it  were.  "  Is 
he  savage-tempered  ?  "  I  asked.  u  Who,  Gen 
eral  Williams?  "  my  guide  exclaimed  in  ques 
tioning  surprise.  "  Not  he,"  he  answered  ;  "he 
is  the  kindest-hearted  man  in  the  army."  I  was 
slightly  reassured. 

I  said :  "  See  here,  what  do  you  suppose  he 
wants  of  me  ?  I  do  not  know  him  and  I  do  not 
want  to  know  him.  I  have  been  disobeying 
orders,  been  stealing  haversacks  from  infantry 
soldiers,  and  have  been  impudent  to  some  in 
competent  officers.  You  do  not  suppose  that 
I  have  been  reported  to  head-quarters,  do 
you  ?  " 

Loudly  the  orderly  laughed  and  roundly  he 
swore,  and  then  he  said  :  "  Not  at  all.  No  one 
cares  how  many  haversacks  you  have  stolen, 
excepting  the  men  who  lost  them ;  and  as  for 
being  impudent  to  some  of  these  officers,  they 
deserve  it.  You  need  not  be  troubled.  When 
a  private  is  sent  for  and  guided  to  head-quarters, 
he  is  not  going  to  be  hurt." 


144        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

We  rode  into  a  village  of  tents,  one  of  which 
was  pointed  out  to  me  as  General  Williams'. 
Sentinels  paced  to  and  fro ;  nice,  clean  men 
they  were  too.  I  dismounted,  hitched  my 
horse,  and  walked  to  Williams'  tent.  I  was 
halted,  sent  in  my  name,  and  was  admitted. 
I  strode  in  defiant,  hat  on  head,  expecting  to 
be  abused,  and  resolved  to  take  a  hand  in  the 
abuse  business  myself.  Boy  that  I  was,  I  was 
really  frightened  half  out  of  my  senses. 

I  saw  a  handsome,  kind-faced,  middle-aged 
officer  standing  before  me.  He  smiled  kindly, 
and  inquired,  as  he  extended  his  hand  to  me, 
"  Have  I  the  pleasure  of  addressing  Lieutenant 
Frank  Wilkeson?"  My  hat  came  off  instantly; 
my  heart  went  out  to  Seth  Williams,  and  I  re 
plied  :  "  No,  General ;  I  am  Private  Frank 
Wilkeson."  He  smiled  again  and  looked  curi 
ously  at  me.  How  I  did  wish  I  had  washed 
my  face  and  brushed  the  dirt  off  of  my  clothes. 
He  bade  me  to  be  seated,  and  skilfully  set  me 
to  talking.  He  asked  me  many  questions,  and 
I  answered  as  intelligently  as  I  could.  Grow 
ing  confidential,  I  told  him  that  I  had  been 
dreadfully  frightened  by  being  summoned  to 
head-quarters,  and  confessed  the  matters  of  the 
sheep  and  the  haversacks,  and  my  misconcep- 


THE  BATTLE   OF  COLD  HARBOR.         1 45 

tion  of  his  duties.  He  tried  to  look  severely 
grave,  but  laughed  instead,  and  said  pleasantly: 
"You  are  not  to  be  shot.  The  crimes  you  have 
committed  hardly  deserve  that  punishment.  I 
have  called  you  to  me  to  say  that  Secretary  of 
War  Stanton  has  ordered  your  discharge,  and 
that  you  are  to  be  appointed  a  second  lieuten 
ant  in  the  Fourth  Regiment  of  United  States 
Artillery.  When  you  want  your  discharge, 
claim  it  from  your  captain.  He  has  the  order 
to  discharge  you.  When  you  get  it,  come  to  me 
if  you  need  money  to  travel  on,  and  I  will  lend 
you  sufficient  to  take  you  to  Washington  and 
to  buy  you  some  clothing.  When  you  arrive 
there,  report  to  the  Secretary  of  War,  and  he 
will  tell  you  what  to  do." 

Kind  Seth  Williams !  So  gracious,  and 
sweet,  and  sympathetic  was  he  to  me,  a  dirty 
private,  that  my  eyes  rilled  with  tears,  and  I 
could  not  talk,  could  not  thank  him.  I  came 
within  an  ace  of  crying  outright.  I  returned 
to  my  battery  and  resumed  work  on  my  gun. 
I  thought  that  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  might 
win  the  next  battle,  and  end  the  war.  If  it 
did,  I  preferred  to  be  a  private  in  a  volunteer 
battery  which  was  serving  at  the  front,  rather 
than  to  be  a  lieutenant  in  the  United  States 


146        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

Artillery,  stationed  at  Camp  Barry,  near  Wash 
ington. 

On  one  of  these  six  Cold  Harbor  days,  when 
my  battery  was  in  action,  I  saw  a  party  of 
horsemen  riding  toward  us  from  the  left.  I 
smiled  as  the  absurdity  of  men  riding  along  a 
battle-line  for  pleasure  filled  my  sense  of  the 
ridiculous  ;  but  as  I  looked  I  saw  that  the  party 
consisted  of  a  civilian  under  escort.  The  party 
passed  close  behind  our  guns,  and  in  passing 
the  civilian  exposed  a  large  placard,  which  was 
fastened  to  his  back,  and  which  bore  the  words, 
"  Libeler  of  the  Press."  We  all  agreed  that  he 
had  been  guilty  of  some  dreadful  deed,  and 
were  pleased  to  see  him  ride  the  battle-line. 
He  was  howled  at,  and  the  wish  to  tear  him 
limb  from  limb  and  strew  him  over  the  ground 
was  fiercely  expressed.  This  man  escaped 
death  from  the  shot  and  shells  and  bullets  that 
filled  the  air.  I  afterward  met  him  in  Wash 
ington,  and  he  told  me  that  he  was  a  newspaper 
war  correspondent,  and  that  his  offence  was  in 
writing,  as  he  thought,  truthfully,  to  his  journal, 
that  General  Meade  advised  General  Grant  to 
retreat  to  the  north  of  the  Rapidan  after  the 
battle  of  the  Wilderness. 

One  night,  of  these  six  Cold  Harbor  nights, 


THE  BATTLE   OF  COLD  HARBOR.         1 47 

I  was  on  guard  in  the  battery.  I  walked  up 
and  down  behind  the  guns.  Voices  whispering 
outside  of  our  work  startled  me.  Then  I  heard 
men  scrambling  up  the  face  of  the  earthwork. 
In  the  indistinct  light  I  made  out  four.  They 
were  carrying  something.  They  stood  above 
me  on  the  parapet,  and  in  reply  to  my  chal 
lenge  poked  fun  at  me.  They  said  they  loved 
me,  and  had  brought  me  a  present.  They 
threw  down  to  me  a  dead  man,  and  with  a  light 
laugh  went  off.  I  called  to  them  to  come 
back — insisted  that  they  should  carry  their 
corpse  and  bury  it,  but  they  stood  off  in  the 
darkness  and  laughed  at  me,  and  insisted  that 
they  had  made  me  a  present  of  him.  "  You 
can  have  him ;  the  battery  can  have  him,"  and 
disappeared,  leaving  the  dead  man  with  me. 

I  was  young,  and  therefore  soft ;  and  the 
lack  of  good  food  and  loss  of  sleep  told  hard 
on  me.  Indeed,  I  got  utterly  used  up.  So  one 
afternoon  of  this  battle  that  lasted  nearly  a 
week,  when  but  little  was  going  on,  I  said  to 
my  sergeant :  "  I  am  exhausted,  and  want  a 
night's  sleep.  I  will  dig  a  trench  back  here. 
If  possible,  let  me  sleep  to-night,  or  I  will  be 
on  the  sick-list."  He  promised  to  let  me  sleep 
unless  something  urgent  happened  in  the  night. 


14^        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

I  ate  my  supper,  wrapped  my  blanket  around 
me,  and  lay  down  in  my  trench.  The  guns 
roared  about  me,  the  bullets  whistled  over  me; 
but,  overcome  with  exhaustion,  I  fell  into  a 
deep  sleep.  I  was  awakened  with  a  strong  grip 
on  my  shoulders,  was  lifted  up  and  violently 
shaken,  and  the  earnest  voice  of  the  gunner 
told  me  to  run  to  my  gun.  "  They  have  got 
an  enfilading  fire  on  us/'  the  sergeant  cried  to 
me.  Dazed,  half  awake,  stupid  from  the  deep 
sleep  and  coming  sickness,  I  sat  on  the  brink 
of  my  trench  and  wondered  where  I  was.  I 
heard,  "  Ho,  Frank!  Yah  !  No.  I  !  "  sharply 
screamed.  I  heard  the  shot  crash  into  our 
horses.  Still  not  awake,  I  started  for  my  gun. 
I  saw  the  blaze  of  the  fuses  of  the  shells  as  they 
whizzed  by.  I  saw  countless  fireflies ;  and,  in 
my  exhausted,  half-awake  condition,  I  con 
founded  the  shells  and  fireflies  together,  and 
thought  they  were  all  shells.  The  shock  to  me, 
in  my  weak,  nervous  condition,  when  I  saw,  as 
I  thought,  the  air  actually  stiff  with  shells,  re 
quired  all  my  pride  to  stand  up  under.  It 
woke  me  up  and  left  me  with  a  fit  of  trembling 
that  required  ten  minutes  warm  work  at  the 
guns  to  get  rid  of.  The  enfilading  fire  did  not 
amount  to  much,  and  I  soon  returned  to  my 
trench  and  deep  sleep. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  COLD  HARBOR.         149 

One  day  four  men  carrying  a  pale  infantry 
man  stopped  for  an  instant  in  my  battery.  The 
wounded  man  suffered  intensely  from  a  wound 
through  the  foot.  My  sympathy  was  excited 
for  the  young  fellow,  and  as  we  at  the  moment 
were  doing  nothing,  I  asked  for  half  an  hour's 
leave.  Getting  it,  I  accompanied  him  back  into 
the  woods  to  one  of  the  Second  Corps'  field 
hospitals.  Here,  groaning  loudly,  he  awaited 
his  turn,  which  soon  came.  We  lifted  him  on 
the  rude  table.  A  surgeon  held  chloroform  to 
his  nostrils,  and  under  its  influence  he  lay  as  if 
in  death.  The  boot  was  removed,  then  the 
stocking,  and  I  saw  a  great  ragged  hole  on  the 
sole  of  the  foot  where  the  ball  came  out.  Then 
I  heard  the  coatless  surgeon  who  was  making 
the  examination  cry  out,  "  The  cowardly 
whelp  !  "  So  I  edged  around  and  looked  over 
the  shoulders  of  an  assistant  surgeon,  and  saw 
that  the  small  wound  on  the  top  of  the  foot, 
where  the  ball  entered,  was  blackened  with 
powder  !  I,  too,  muttered  "  The  coward  "  and 
was  really  pleased  to  see  the  knife  and  saw  put 
to  work  and  the  craven's  leg  taken  off  below 
the  knee.  He  was  carried  into  the  shade  of  a 
tree,  and  left  there  to  wake  up.  I  watched  the 
skilful  surgeons  probe  and  carve  other  patients. 


ISO        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

The  little  pile  of  legs  and  arms  grew  steadily, 
while  I  waited  for  the  object  of  my  misplaced 
sympathy  to  recover  his  senses.  With  a  long 
breath  he  opened  his  eyes.  I  was  with  him  at 
once,  and  looked  sharply  at  him.  I  will  never 
forget  the  look  of  horror  that  fastened  on  his 
face  when  he  found  his  leg  was  off.  Utter  hope 
lessness  and  fear  that  look  expressed.  I  enter 
ed  into  conversation  with  him  ;  and  he,  weak 
ened  and  unnerved  by  the  loss  of  the  leg,  and 
the  chloroform,  for  once  told  the  truth.  Lying 
on  his  back,  he  aimed  at  his  great  toe,  meaning 
to  shoot  it  off;  but  being  rudely  joggled  by  a 
comrade  at  the  critical  instant,  his  rifle  covered 
his  foot  just  below  the  ankle,  and  an  ounce  ball 
went  crashing  through  the  bones  and  sinews. 
The  wound,  instead  of  being  a  furlough,  was  a 
discharge  from  the  army,  probably  into  eternity. 
Our  guns  at  the  front  began  to  howl  at  the  Con 
federates  again,  and  I  was  forced  to  leave  the 
hospital.  So  I  hastened  back  to  my  guns.  The 
utter  contempt  of  the  surgeons,  their  change 
from  careful  handling  to  almost  brutality,  when 
they  discovered  the  wound  was  self-inflicted, 
was  bracing  to  me.  j_  likec[  it,  and  rammed 
home  the  ammunition  in  gun  No.  I  with  vim. 
Constantly  losing  men  in  our  earthwork, 


THE  BATTLE   OF  COLD  HARBOR.        151 

shot  not  in  fair  fight,  but  by  sharpshooters,  we 
all  began  to  loathe  the  place.  At  last,  one  after 
noon  the  captain  ordered  us  to  level  the  corn- 
hills  between  the  battery  and  the  road,  so  that 
we  could  withdraw  the  guns  without  making  a 
noise.  At  once  understanding  that  a  flank  move 
ment  was  at  hand,  we  joyfully  gathered  up 
shovels  and  spades,  and  went  at  the  obstructions 
with  a  will.  No.  3  of  No.  I  gun,  an  Albany  man, 
was  at  my  side.  I  was  bent  over  shovelling. 
I  straightened  myself  up.  He  leaned  over  to 
sink  his  shovel,  pitched  forward  in  a  heap,  dead, 
and  an  artilleryman  beyond  him  clasped  his 
stomach  and  howled  a  death  howl.  No.  3  was 
shot  from  temple  to  temple.  The  ball  passed 
through  his  head  and  hit  the  other  man  in  the 
stomach,  fatally  wounding  him.  They  were  the 
last  men  our  battery  lost  at  Cold  Harbor. 

That  evening  the  horses  were  brought  up, 
and  all  the  guns  but  mine,  No.  I,  were  taken 
off.  We  sat  and  watched  them  disappear  in  the 
darkness.  Soon  heavy  columns  of  infantry 
could  be  indistinctly  seen  marching  by  the  alder 
swamp  in  our  rear.  Then  all  was  quiet,  ex 
cepting  the  firing  of  the  pickets.  We  sat  and 
waited  for  the  expected  advance  of  the  Con 
federates  ;  but  they  did  not  come.  Towards 


152        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

midnight  an  officer  rode  into  the  earthwork  and 
asked  lowly  who  was  in  command.  The  sergeant 
stepped  forward  and  received  his  orders.  Turn- 
ing  to  us  he  whispered,  "  Limber  to  the  rear.  " 
Silently  the  horses  swung  around.  The  gun 
was  limbered,  and,  with  the  caisson  in  the  lead, 
we  pulled  out  of  the  earthwork,  slowly  drove 
across  the  cornfield,  struck  into  a  dusty  road  in 
the  forest,  and  marched  for  the  James  River 
and  the  bloody  disasters  that  awaited  us  be 
yond  that  beautiful  stream. 


IX. 

FIGHTING  AROUND   PETERSBURG. 

ON  the  night  of  June  14,  1864,  the  battery 
to  which  I  belonged  went  into  park 
close  to  the  James  River,  but  not  within  sight 
of  it.  I  well  remember  the  camping  ground, 
because  I  endeavored  to  get  water  out  of  a 
large  spring  which  gushed  from  beneath  a  wide- 
spreading  tree,  which  stood  to  the  rear  and 
right  of  a  plantation  house,  where  either  a  divi 
sion  or  corps  head-quarters  had  been  established. 
The  spring  flowed  freely.  It  had  been  boxed, 
and  there  was  plenty  of  water  for  thousands  of 
men  in  the  box.  The  water  in  the  sluggish 
runs  had  been  roiled  by  artillery  horses  drinking, 
and  been  additionally  befouled  by  hundreds  of 
vermin-infested  men  bathing  in  it.  The  water 
in  the  spring  was  clear  and  cool,  and  I,  with  a 
dozen  of  my  comrades,  wanted  some  of  it,  but 
we  did  not  get  it.  An  alert  sentinel  stood  over 
this  water.  He  had  orders  to  keep  the  waters 
153 


154        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

of  the  spring  sacred,  to  keep  them  unpolluted 
by  the  touch  of  enlisted  men's  canteens  or  cof 
fee  pots.  At  the  time  I  protested  savagely 
against  the  official  selfishness  which  denied  the 
use  of  the  only  clean  water  in  the  region  to  the 
men  who  did  the  fighting.  The  sentinel  was 
ashamed  to  keep  us  from  the  water,  but,  as  he 
said,  he  had  to  obey  orders.  That  night  I 
strained  the  muddy,  foul  water  of  the  run 
through  a  blanket  to  get  water  to  make  coffee 
and  to  fill  my  canteen.  We  were  almost  out  of 
food.  I  was  entirely  so. 

On  the  morning  of  June  I5th  we  moved 
close  to  the  James  River  and  parked.  I  was 
lying  under  a  tree  near  an  old  and  abandoned 
house.  Below  me  and  a  little  to  my  left  a  pon 
toon  bridge  stretched  across  the  muddy  waters 
of  the  river  James.  A  few  steamboats  were 
paddling  to  and  fro,  some  ferrying  troops 
across  the  river,  others  apparently  doing  noth 
ing.  The  Second  Corps  troops  were  rapidly 
marching  across  the  pontoon  bridge,  which 
swayed  up  and  down  under  their  heavy  tread. 
On  the  other  side  was  a  village  of  tents  and 
great  piles  of  boxes.  Many  men  were  swim 
ming  in  the  river. 

I  had  had  no  supper,  no  breakfast,  and  I  was 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       1 55 

exceedingly  hungry.  One  of  my  comrades  and 
I  were  dolefully  discussing  the  emptiness  of  our 
stomachs,  when  we  saw  an  old,  gray-haired 
negro  walking  past  us.  His  tattered  shirt  was 
open  at  the  breast,  displaying  a  coat  of  moss- 
like,  gray  hair.  His  feet  were  bare.  One  of 
his  hands  grasped  a  cane,  made  of  a  piece  of 
hickory  sapling  with  prominent  knobs  on  it,  to 
help  his  legs  support  his  withered  old  body.  In 
his  other  hand  he  carried  an  aged  and  battered, 
but  bright,  tin  pail.  I  hailed  him,  saying : 
"  Uncle,  come  here."  He  stood  in  front  of  us, 
with  water  running  out  of  his  bleary  eyes.  He 
was  exceedingly  old  and  feeble.  I  said  :  "  Uncle, 
we  are  hungry.  There  is  a  safeguard  on  those 
buildings,"  indicating  a  group  of  houses  with 
outstretched  arm,  "  and  we  cannot  plunder 
them.  Can  you  get  us  something  to  eat?" 
The  old  negro  looked  doubtfully  from  my  com 
rade  to  me,  and  then  back  to  my  comrade.  He 
hesitated  to  offer  us  what  he  had.  Then  he 
lifted  the  lid  of  his  pail  and  dropped  his  long, 
lean,  withered  hand  into  it  and  drew  forth  a 
hoe-cake — a  thick,  brown  hoe-cake — and  hand 
ed  it  to  me.  I  was  ashamed  to  take  it.  But 
the  old  slave  assured  me  that  he  had  a  store 
of  meal  laid  by,  and  that  he  would  not  suffer. 


156        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

So  I  took  it  and  divided  it  with  my  comrade. 
The  aged  negro  hobbled  off  to  his  work  din- 
nerless. 

Infantry  hurried  past  us  ;  batteries  of  artil 
lery  rolled  by.  We  recognized  some  of  the  lat 
ter,  and  said  :  "  There  goes  K.  of  the  Fourth 
United  States  Artillery  "  ;  "  That  is  the 
Twelfth  New  York  Battery,"  and  we  waved  our 
hands  to  the  men  whom  we  knew.  There  was 
a  gap  in  the  column  of  hurrying  troops.  Our 
captain  swung  himself  into  his  saddle  and  com 
manded  :  "  By  piece  from  the  right  front  into 
column,  march  !  "  and  we  were  off  for  Peters 
burg.  We  crossed  on  the  pontoon  bridge, 
which  had  a  peculiar  earthquaky  motion,  and 
entered  the  village  of  tents.  Thousands  of 
boxes  of  hard  bread  and  barrels  of  pork  were 
there,  but  instead  of  being  open  and  we  helping 
ourselves  as  we  marched,  the  troops  were  halted 
and  jammed  and  irritated  by  having  to  stand 
around  with  open  haversacks  while  a  compara 
tively  few  commissary  employees  slowly  dealt 
out  the  precious  provisions  to  us.  Hours  were 
worth  millions  of  dollars  each  on  this  flank 
movement.  They  were  really  priceless,  and  we 
dawdled  away  three  of  them  in  getting  a  little 
food  into  our  haversacks.  This  was  Potomac 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       I  57 

Army  economy.  The  Second  Corps,  if  the 
boxes  of  hard  bread  and  barrels  of  pork  and 
coffee  and  sugar  had  lined  the  road,  and  we  en 
listed  men  had  helped  ourselves,  might  have 
carried  off  $20,000  worth  of  extra  provisions  ; 
but  we  would  have  saved  three  hours,  and  they, 
if  properly  used,  would  have  been  worth  $100,- 
000,000  each,  and  would  have  saved  thousands 
of  men's  lives  also.  But  we  fooled  away  the 
time;  we  stood  and  chaffed  one  another;  and 
the  cannon  in  our  front  roared  and  the  mus 
ketry  rolled.  Then  we  marched.  We  were  in 
high  spirits.  We  marched  free.  Every  enlisted 
man  in  the  Second  Corps  knew  that  we  had 
outmarched  the  Confederates.  We  knew  that 
some  of  our  troops  were  assaulting  the  Con 
federate  works  at  Petersburg.  The  booming 
of  the  cannon  cheered  us.  We  were  tired, 
hungry,  worn  with  six  weeks  of  continuous  and 
bloody  fighting  and  severe  marching  ;  but  now 
that  we,  the  enlisted  men  of  the  Second  Corps, 
knew  that  at  last  a  flank  movement  had  been 
successful,  we  wanted  to  push  on  and  get  into 
the  fight  and  capture  Petersburg.  We  knew 
that  we  had  outmarched  Lee's  veterans,  and 
that  our  reward  was  at  hand.  The  Second 
Corps  was  in  fine  fettle.  On  all  sides  I  heard 


158        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

men  assert  that  Petersburg  and  Richmond  were 
ours  ;  that  the  war  would  virtually  be  ended  in 
less  than  twenty-four  hours. 

Night  came.  The  almost  full  moon  arose 
above  the  woods  and  gold-flecked  the  dust 
column  which  rose  above  us.  We  had  heard 
heavy  firing  about  sundown,  and  judged  that 
we  should  be  drawing  near  the  battle-line.  We 
entered  a  pine  woods,  and  there  we  met  a  mob 
of  black  troops,  who  were  hauling  some  brass 
guns.  They  had  attached  long  ropes  to  the 
limbers,  and,  with  many  shouts,  were  dragging 
them  down  the  road.  Some  of  them  bore 
flaming  torches  of  pine  knots  in  their  hands. 
They  sang,  they  shouted,  they  danced  weirdly, 
as  though  they  were  again  in  Congo  villages 
making  medicine.  They  were  happy,  dirty, 
savagely  excited,  but  they  were  not  soldiers. 
As  we,  the  Second  Corps,  met  these  victorious 
troops  the  eager  infantrymen  asked  :  "  Where 
did  you  get  those  guns  ?  "  They  replied : 
"  We'uns  captured  them  from  the  rebels  to 
day."  "  Bah  !  "  an  infantry  sergeant,  who  was 
marching  by  my  side,  exclaimed,  "  you  negroes 
captured  nothing  from  Lee's  men.  The  city  is 
ours.  There  is  not  a  brigade  of  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia  ahead  of  us."  And  we  all 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       I  59 

exclaimed  :  "  The  city  is  ours  !  We  have  out 
marched  them  !  "  And  we  strode  on  through 
the  dense  dust  clouds,  with  parched  throats, 
footsore  and  weary.  Not  a  grumble  did  I 
hear.  But  with  set  jaws  we  toiled  on,  intent  on 
capturing  Petersburg  before  the  Army  of  North 
ern  Virginia  got  behind  the  works.  It  was 
"  March,  march,  march  !  No  straggling  now. 
It  is  far  better  to  march  to-night  than  to  assault 
earthworks  defended  by  Lee's  men  to-morrow. 
Hurry  along  !  hurry,  hurry,  hurry  !  "  And  we 
marched  our  best.  We  passed  a  group  of  sol 
diers,  who  wore  the  distinctive  badge  of  the 
Second  Corps,  cooking  by  the  roadside,  their 
muskets  stacked  by  their  fire.  We  asked  how 
far  it  was  to  the  battle-line.  "  Only  a  few  hun 
dred  yards,"  they  replied.  Then  we  asked  what 
Confederate  troops  were  ahead  of  us.  They 
answered,  with  a  scornful  laugh  :  "  Petersburg 
militia."  We  asked  what  Union  troops  were 
engaged,  and  they  replied  :  "  Some  of  But 
ler's  men."  With  the  dislike  all  soldiers  have 
for  unknown  troops,  we  said  heartily  :  "  Damn 
Butler's  men  !  We  do  not  know  them.  We 
wish  the  Fifth  or  the  Sixth  Corps  were  here 
instead  of  them."  Many  soldiers  anxiously 
inquired  :  "  Will  Butler's  men  fight  ?  "  Then 


l6o        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

some  private,  who  was  better  informed  than  the 
most  of  us,  told  us  that  Butler's  men  had  been 
lying  at  Bermuda  Hundreds,  and  that  there 
were  many  negro  troops  among  them.  The 
noses  of  the  Second  Corps  men  were  cocked 
sharply  in  the  air  at  this  information. 

Word  was  passed  among  us  that  the  negro 
troops  had  had  famous  success  that  day  ;  that 
they  had  wrested,  a  heavy  line  of  earthworks 
from  the  Confederates,  and  had  captured  eigh 
teen  guns.  The  soldiers  halted  for  an  instant. 
They  examined  their  rifles  and  shifted  their 
cartridge-boxes  to  a  position  where  they  could 
get  at  them  easily,  and  they  drank  deeply  from 
their  canteens.  Then  belts  were  tightened, 
blanket  rolls  shifted,  the  last  bits  of  hard-tack 
the  men  had  been  chewing  were  swallowed,  and 
their  mouths  again  filled  with  water  and  rinsed 
out,  and  then  throughout  the  ranks  murmurs 
arose  of :  "  Now  for  it  "  ;  "  Put  us  into  it,  Han 
cock,  my  boy ;  we  will  end  this  damned  re 
bellion  to-night !  "  and  we  laughed  lowly,  and 
our  hearts  beat  high.  Soon  we  heard  com 
mands  given  to  the  infantry,  and  they  marched 
off.  My  battery  moved  forward,  twisted  ob 
liquely  in  and  out  among  the  stumps,  and  then 
the  guns  swung  into  battery  on  a  cleared  space. 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       l6l 

And  then — and  then — we  went  to  cooking. 
That  night  was  made  to  fight  on.  -A  bright 
and  almost  full  moon  shone  above  us.  The 
Confederate  earthworks  were  in  plain  view  be 
fore  us,  earthworks  which  we  knew  were  bare  of 
soldiers.  There  was  a  noisy  fire  from  the  Con 
federate  pickets  in  front  of  us.  So  unnerved 
and  frightened  were  they  that  their  bullets  sang 
high  above  us.  We  cooked  and  ate,  and  fool 
ed  the  time  away.  This  when  every  intelligent 
enlisted  man  in  the  Second  Corps  knew  that 
not  many  miles  away  the  columns  of  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia  were  marching  furiously 
to  save  Petersburg  and  Richmond  and  the  Con 
federacy.  We  could  almost  see  those  veteran 
troops,  lean,  squalid,  hungry  and  battle  torn, 
with  set  jaws  and  anxious-looking  eyes,  striding 
rapidly  through  the  dust,  pouring  over  bridges, 
crowding  through  the  streets  of  villages,  and 
ever  hurrying  on  to  face  us.  And  we  knew 
that  once  they  got  behind  the  earthworks  in 
our  front,  we  could  not  drive  them  out.  They 
did  not  surrender  cannon  and  intrenchments  to 
disorderly  gangs  of  armed  negroes.  They  did 
not  understand  how  troops  could  lose  earth 
works  when  assailed  by  equal  numbers  of  sol 
diers.  Still  we  cooked  and  ate,  and  sat  idly  look- 


1 62        RECOLLECTIONS  OP  A   PRIVATE. 

ing  into  one  anothers  eyes,  questioningly  at  first, 
then  impatiently  and  then  angrily.  Gradually 
the  fact  that  we  were  not  to  fight  that  night  im 
pressed  itself  on  us.  I  walked  over  to  the  lim 
ber  of  my  gun,  opened  my  knapsack,  and  took 
out  a  campaign  map  and  a  pair  of  compasses. 
Returning  to  the  fire  the  map  was  spread  on  the 
ground.  As  I  measured  the  distances  a  group 
of  excited  soldiers  gathered  around  and  watch 
ed  the  work.  We  had  the  less  distance  to 
march,  about  nine  hours'  the  start,  and  allowing 
for  the  time  lost  at  the  crossing  of  the  James 
River  we  were  at  1 1  P.M.  four  or  five  hours  a- 
head  of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  "  Will 
they  be  in  the  works  by  morning,  men?"  I 
asked  ;  and  all  answered,  "  By  God,  they  will !  " 
Discouraged,  I  put  away  the  map,  loaded  a  pipe, 
lighted  it,  and  strolled  off  down  the  line,  stop 
ping  at  almost  every  fire  I  came  to  to  talk  to 
the  infantry  soldiers.  The  rage  of  the  intelli 
gent  enlisted  men  was  devilish.  The  most 
blood-curdling  blasphemy  I  ever  listened  to  I 
heard  that  night,  uttered  by  the  men  who  knew 
they  were  to  be  sacrificed  on  the  morrow.  The 
whole  corps  was  furiously  excited.  I  returned 
to  my  battery  a  little  after  midnight.  Seated 
on  the  ground  I  rested  my  back  against  one  of 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       163 

the  ponderous  wheels  of  my  gun.  Resting 
there  I  slept. 

At  early  dawn  I  was  awake  and  tried  to  ex 
amine  the  Confederate  line.  I  noticed  that  the 
noisy,  wasteful  picket-firing  of  the  night  before 
had  ceased  ;  that  the  main  line  of  earthworks, 
indistinctly  seen  in  the  gray  light,  was  silent. 
Some  of  our  infantry  came  into  our  slight  earth 
work,  and  we  stood  gazing  into  the  indistinct 
ness  before  us.  All  of  us  were  greatly  depressed. 

It  grew  lighter  and  lighter,  and  there  be 
fore  us,  fully  revealed,  was  a  long,  high  line  of 
intrenchments,  with  heavy  redoubts,  where  can 
non  were  massed  at  the  angles,  silent,  grim. 
No  wasteful  fire  shot  forth  from  that  line. 
Now  and  then  a  man  rose  up  out  of  the  Con 
federate  rifle-pits,  and  a  rifle-ball  flew  close 
above  us,  no  longer  singing  high  in  the  air. 
Sadly  we  looked  at  one  another.  We  knew  that 
the  men  who  had  fought  us  in  the  Wilderness, 
at  Spottsylvania,  North  Anna,  and  Cold  Har 
bor  were  in  the  works  sleeping,  gaining  strength 
to  repulse  our  assault,  while  their  pickets  watch 
ed  for  them.  v 

/"  No  one  has  ever  accused  General  Hancock  ] 
/  *  / 

/of  lying.  y 

^*  It   was    broad    daylight.       I    had    eaten   my 


164         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVATE. 

breakfast  and  was  looking  over  the  field  of 
yesterday's  fighting.  Some  dead  men  lay  on 
the  ground  ;  but  the  scarcity  of  those  in  gray 
plainly  showed  that  they  had  no  stomach  for 
fighting,  that  they  were  raw,  undisciplined 
militia,  who  had  abandoned  their  powerful  line 
of  earthworks  when  attacked  by  a  few  black 
troops.  At  sixty  feet  in  front  of  the  captured 
works  I  saw  pine  trees  which  had  been  struck 
with  Confederate  bullets  thirty  feet  from  the 
ground.  This  told,  better  than  .words,  the 
nervous  condition  of  the  men  who  pretended 
to  defend  the  line. 

Wandering  toward  the  rear,  I  came  on  the 
line  of  rifle-pits  which  had  been  used  by  the 
Confederate  pickets,  and  saw  two  dead  men 
lying  close  together.  I  walked  over  to  them. 
One  was  a  burly  negro  sergeant,  as  black  as 
coal,  in  blue ;  the  other  was  a  Confederate  line 
sergeant,  in  gray.  Their  bayoneted  rifles  lay 
beside  them.  Curious  at  the  nearness  of  the 
bodies,  I  turned  them  over  and  looked  care 
fully  at  them.  They  had  met  with  unloaded 
rifles  and  had  fought  a  duel  with  their  bayonets, 
each  stabbing  the  other  to  death. 

The  battery  bugler  blew  "  boots  and  sad 
dles  !  "  and  I  hastened  back  to  my  gun,  to  hear 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       165 

that  the  other  corps  of  the  Potomac  Army  had 
arrived,  and  that  the  infantry  would  make  a 
general  assault  that  day,  probably  in  the  after 
noon.  We  limbered  up  ;  then  marched  to  the 
left  and  took  a  new  position  on  a  bit  of  level 
land  which  gradually  sloped  toward  a  creek 
which  flowed  between  us  and  the  silent  Confed 
erate  line.  The  preliminary  artillery  practice 
began,  so  as  to  announce  in  thunder  tones  that 
we  were  getting  ready  to  make  an  assault.  I 
worked  listlessly  to  and  fro  from  the  muzzle  of 
my  three-inch  gun,  carelessly  looking  ahead  to 
see  if  the  fire  produced  any  result.  It  did  not. 
The  gunners  of  the  Confederate  batteries  were 
evidently  husbanding  their  ammunition.  They 
treated  us  with  silent  contempt.  But,  unable 
to  withstand  our  steady  hammering,  they  at 
last  coldly  responded  to  our  attentions.  Shot 
skipped  by  us,  shell  exploded  among  us  ;  but, 
with  very  unusual  luck,  we  lost  but  few  men. 

We  fired  steadily.  The  limber  of  the  gun 
was  emptied.  It  went  back  to  the  line  of 
caissons  to  be  filled  and  the  limber  of  the  cais 
sons  came  up.  Soon  the  operation  was  re 
peated  and  I  knew  that  the  caissons  would 
speedily  go  to  the  rear  after  ammunition.  After 
a  little  while  the  first  sergeant  came  to  me  and 


1 66        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

said  :  "  You  seem  to  be  tired.  Go  to  the  rear 
with  the  caissons  after  ammunition."  I  handed 
the  heavy  sponge  staff  to  another  cannoneer 
and  walked  to  the  caissons.  Mounting  on  the 
empty  chests  I  rode  to  the  rear  where  the 
ammunition  wagons  were  parked.  A  portion 
of  the  road  we  travelled  over  ran  within  three 
fourths  of  a  mile  of  a  heavy  Confederate  re 
doubt,  out  of  whose  embrasures  the  muzzles  of 
large  black  guns  were  thrust.  To  the  right  of 
this  piece  of  road  was  an  open  field  of  thin, 
poverty-creating  soil  ;  beyond  the  field  was 
a  forest.  Thickly  scattered  among  the  trees, 
and  grouped  at  the  edge  of  the  open  field,  in 
the  shade,  were  those  cowards,  the  "  coffee 
boilers."  Gangs  of  officers*  servants  and  many 
refugee  negroes  were  there.  Pack-mules  loaded 
with  pots,  frying-pans,  gripsacks,  and  bags  of 
clothing  stood  tied  to  trees.  White-capped 
army  wagons,  with  six  mules  harnessed  to  them, 
stood  at  the  edge  of  the  woods.  .  The  drivers 
of  these  wagons  were  drinking  coffee  with 
friendly  "  boilers,"  and  they  were  probably 
frightening  one  another  by  telling  blood-curd 
ling  tales  of  desperate  but  mythical  battles 
they  had  been  engaged  in.  Fires  were  burning 
brightly  in  the  forest,  and  thin  columns  of 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       l6/ 

smoke  arose  above  the  trees.  I  could  almost 
smell  the  freshly  made  Rio  and  the  broiled 
bacon.  It  was  as  though  a  huge  pic-nic  were 
going  on  in  the  woods.  The  scene  angered 
me.  I  knew  that  the  "  coffee  boilers  "  were 
almost  to  a  man  bounty-jumping  cowards,  and 
I  wanted  that  camp  broken  up. 

The  Confederates  in  the  redoubt  allowed  us 
to  pass  to  the  rear  without  firing  on  us ;  for  we 
were  empty  and  not  worth  powder  and  shot. 
Arriving  at  the  park  of  the  ammunition  train 
we  filled  our  ammunition  chests,  and  then  be 
gan  the  return  march.  When  the  full  caissons 
came  out  of  the  woods  on  to  the  portion  of  the 
road  which  was  exposed  to  the  fire  from  the 
fort,  I  saw  the  Confederate  gunners  spring  to 
their  cannon.  I  looked  at  the  camp  of  the 
"  coffee  boilers."  They  were  enjoying  life.  I 
leaned  forward  and  clasped  my  knees  with  ex 
cess  of  joy  as  I  realized  what  was  about  to 
occur.  The  Confederate  gunners  were  going 
to  try  to  blow  up  our  caissons.  I  was  confident 
that  they  could  not  hit  us,  and  was  also  confi 
dent  that  their  attempt  would  bloodily  disturb 
the  camp  of  the  " boilers"  and  hangers-on.  We 
broke  into  a  trot,  then  into  a  gallop,  and  then 
into  a  dead  run.  Clouds  of  smoke  shot  forth 


1 68         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

from  the  redoubt,  and  out  of  these,  large  black 
balls  rose  upward  and  rushed  through  the  air, 
and  passed,  shrieking  shrilly,  close  above  us, 
to  descend  in  the  camp  of  the  u  boilers."  It 
was  a  delightful  scene.  I  hugged  my  knees  and 
rocked  to  and  fro  and  laughed  until  my  flesh- 
less  ribs  were  sore.  Shells  swept  above  me  and 
burst  in  the  woods.  Shot  howled  past  and  cut 
large  trees  down,  and  they  fell  with  a  crash 
among  the  frying-pans  and  coffee-pots.  Team 
sters  sprang  into  their  wagons,  or  on  to  their 
saddle-mules,  and  savagely  plied  their  whips 
and  hastened  away  from  the  pasture-field. 
Negro  servants  loosened  their  pack-mules  and 
hung  on  to  the  loads  of  tinware  as  they,  yelling 
at  the  top  of  their  voices,  ran  for  the  rear. 
Men,  clad  and  armed  as  soldiers,  skurried  as 
frightened  rabbits,  hid  in  holes,  lay  prone  on 
the  earth,  dropped  behind  logs.  Through  the 
dust  and  smoke  and  uproar  I  saw  men  fall, 
saw  others  mangled  by  chunks  of  shell,  and  saw 
one,  struck  fairly  by  an  exploding  shell,  vanish. 
Enormously  pleased,  I  hugged  my  lean  legs, 
and  laughed  and  laughed  again.  It  was  the 
most  refreshing  sight  I  had  seen  for  weeks. 
Our  caissons,  each  drawn  by  six  galloping 
horses,  passed  safely  through  the  fire  and 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       169 

entered  the  protective  woods,  and,  moving 
rapidly  across  the  blood-chilling  belt  where  the 
spent  balls  fall  and  the  wounded  lie,  were  soon 
on  the  battle  line,  and  I  was  again  engaged 
in  helping  to  waste  good  powder  and  shot  and 
shell. 

The  afternoon  passed  quickly  away.  One  of 
the  caissons,  which  belonged  to  a  battery  that 
was  in  action  alongside  of  us,  struck  by  a  shell, 
blew  up,  and  two  men  were  blown  up  with  it. 
A  long  bolt  made  by  our  English  brothers,  did 
this  work,  and  it  added  to  my  dislike  of  all 
things  English.  As  the  sun  sank  the  infantry 
prepared  to  deliver  the  assault  that  we  had 
been  announcing  as  to  be  made.  A  staff  officer 
rode  up  ;  we  ceased  firing.  The  smoke  drifted 
off  of  the  field.  Utterly  exhausted,  I  threw 
myself  on  the  hot  ground  and  watched  the 
doomed  men  who  were  to  try  to  carry  the  Con 
federate  line.  The  charging  cheer  rang  out 
loudly,  the  line  of  blue-clad  soldiers  rushed 
forward,  the  Confederate  pickets  emptied  their 
rifles,  jumped  from  their  rifle-pits,  and  ran  for 
their  main  line,  which  was  still  silent  excepting 
the  artillery.  This  was  served  rapidly,  but  not 
very  effectively.  The  line  of  blue  swept  on  in 
good  order,  cheering  loucUy  and  continuously. 


170        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

They  drew  near  to  the  Confederate  earth 
works.  Canister  cut  gaps  in  the  ranks.  Then 
the  heads  of  Lee's  infantry  rose  above  their  in- 
trenchments.  I  saw  the  glint  of  the  sun  on 
their  polished  rifle  barrels.  A  cloud  of  smoke 
curled  along  the  works.  Our  men  began  to 
tumble  in  large  numbers  ;  some  fell  forward, 
others  backward,  others  staggered  a  few  steps 
and  then  sank  down  as  though  to  rest.  Still  I 
did  not  hear  the  roll  of  the  musketry.  Suddenly 
it  burst  on  me,  mingled  with  the  fierce  Con 
federate  battle-cry.  The  field  grew  hazy  with 
smoke.  Rifles  were  tossed  high  in  the  air. 
Battle  flags  went  down  with  a  sweep,  to  again 
appear  and  plunge  into  the  smoke.  Wounded 
men  straggled  out  of  the  battle.  Fresh  troops 
hurried  by  the  battery  and  disappeared  in  the 
hazy  smoke.  Away  off  to  our  right  I  heard  the 
charging  cheer  of  our  soldiers  and  the  thunder 
ous  roll  of  musketry;  to  the  left  more  musketry 
and  exultant  howls,  as  though  we  had  met  with 
success.  In  our  front  the  fire  grew  steadily 
fiercer  and  fiercer.  The  wounded  men,  who 
drifted  through  the  battery,  told  us  that  the 
works  were  very  strong,  and  that  beyond  them 
there  was  another  and  still  stronger  line,  and 
that  our  troops  were  fighting  in  the  open  before 


FIGHTING  AROUND   PETERSBURG.       l?l 

the  front  line  and  were  not  meeting  with  any 
success.  Night  settled  down,  and  the  fight 
still  went  on  ;  but  it  fagged.  The  musketry 
was  no  longer  a  steady  roar,  and  we  could  see 
the  flashes  of  the  rifles,  and  the  Confederate 
parapet  glowing  redly.  At  points  the  musketry 
fire  broke  out  fiercely,  then  died  down.  In  our 
front  the  fight  was  over.  My  battery  moved 
forward  under  the  direction  of  a  staff  officer, 
and  we  threw  up  an  earthwork. 

That  night  the  news  gatherers  walked  the 
battle  lines.  They  told  us  that  the  assault  had 
been  bloodily  repulsed  excepting  at  one  or  two 
unimportant  points.  And  they  also  brought 
an  exceedingly  interesting  bit  of  news  or  gossip, 
or  a  camp  rumor.  They  said  :  "  We  have  heard 
from  some  of  Butler's  men  that  in  the  breast 
pocket  of  the  coat  of  a  Confederate  officer,  who 
was  killed  in  front  of  their  lines  at  Bermuda 
Hundreds  on  June  I5th,  was  found  the  'morning 
report '  of  the  Confederate  army  which  was  de 
fending  Petersburg  on  that  day,  and  that  this 
report  showed  that  Beauregard  did  not  have 
over  10,000  men,  most  of  whom  were  militia,, 
with  which  to  defend  Petersburg,  and  that  But 
ler  had  laid  this  report  before  Baldy  Smith  and 
Hancock,  and  had  urged  them  to  make  the  as- 


172        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

sault  and  capture  Petersburg  before  the  Army 
of  Northern  Virginia  came  up  ;  but  that  they, 
Smith  and  Hancock,  had  hesitated  and  daw 
dled  the  night  away." 

In  the  morning  I  saw  that  there  had  been 
some  advance  of  the  line.  The  Second  Corps 
had  gained  a  little  ground  at  great  cost,  and  we 
heard  that  Burnside  had  also  gained  ground 
and  captured  a  redoubt.  The  dead  soldiers  of 
the  Second  Corps  lay  thickly  in  front  of  us, 
placed  in  long  trenches  by  their  comrades. 

That  afternoon  the  battery  quartermaster- 
sergeant,  goaded  to  desperation  by  the  taunts 
of  the  artillery  privates,  nerved  himself  with 
whiskey  and  came  to  the  battery  to  display  his 
courage.  The  Confederate  sharp-sho'oters  had 
attacked  us  about  noon,  and  our  works  were 
hot.  I,  snugly  seated  under  the  earthworks, 
looked  at  this  representative  of  the  staff  with 
all  the  intense  dislike  privates  have  for  the  gold- 
laced  officers.  I  was  wicked  enough  to  wish 
that  he  would  get  shot.  He  swaggered  up 
and  down  behind  the  guns,  talking  loudly,  and 
ignorant  of  the  danger.  I,  with  high-beating 
heart,  looked  eagerly  at  him,  hungrily  waiting 
for  him  to  jump  and  howl.  I  was  disappointed. 
A  sharp-shooter's  bullet  struck  him  on  the 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       1/3 

throat.  It  crashed  through  his  spine  at  the 
base  of  the  brain,  and  he  neither  jumped  nor 
howled — simply  fell  on  his  back  dead. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  June  i8th,  some  of 
our  pickets  brought  word  to  the  battery  that 
the  Confederates  had  abandoned  their  front  line 
during  the  night,  and  that  they  had  moved 
back  to  their  interior  line,  which  was  shorter 
and  stronger  and  more  easily  defended.  The 
infantry  soldiers  moved  forward,  and  occupied 
the  works  they  had  been  unable  to  capture. 
My  battery  moved  to  another  position,  and 
again  the  guns  opened  on  the  Confederate  line, 
and  again  they  husbanded  their  ammunition. 
But  their  sharp-shooters  fairly  made  us  howl 
with  anguish.  I  heartily  wished  that  Lee  had 
not  abandoned  his  front  line.  Our  infantry 
moved  to  and  fro,  getting  ready  to  assault  the 
new  line  of  intrenchments.  The  soldiers  were 
thoroughly  discouraged.  They  had  no  heart 
for  the  assault.  It  was  evident  that  they  had 
determined  not  to  fight  stanchly,  not  to  at 
tempt  to  accomplish  the  impossible.  At  about 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  infantry  was 
sent  to  the  slaughter,  and  the  Confederates 
promptly  killed  a  sufficient  number  of  them  to 
satisfy  our  generals  that  the  works  could  not 


1/4        RECOLLECTIONS  .OF  A   PRIVATE. 

be  taken  by  assaults  delivered  by  exhausted 
and  discouraged  troops.  In  many  places  our 
battle  line  did  not  advance  to  the  line  of  rifle- 
pits  held  by  the  Confederate  pickets.  We  had 
lost  about  12,000  men  in  the  attempts  to  cap 
ture  Petersburg.  The  Second  Corps  could 
have  taken  the  city  on  the  night  of  June  I5th 
without  losing  more  than  500  men.  This  fact 
disheartened  the  enlisted  men  of  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac.  They  were  supremely  disgusted 
with  the  display  of  military  stupidity  our  gen 
erals  had  made. 

We  marched  somewhere  at  night.  The  road 
was  lined  with  sleeping  infantry.  I  was  hungry. 
As  I  look  back  at  those  bloody  days  it  seems  to 
me  that  I  was  always  hungry.  Men  to  the  right 
of  us,  to  the  left  of  us,  lay  as  though  dead — they 
slept  so  soundly  ;  but  their  haversacks  were  not 
in  sight.  They  were  veterans  who  knew  enough 
to  hide  their  haversacks  when  they  slept  on 
roads.  We  came  to  a  heavy  double  line  of 
men,  who  looked  as  if  they  had  opened  ranks 
and  then  fallen  over  asleep.  Soon  we  light- 
artillery  men  recognized  them  as  loo-day  men 
from  Ohio.  Their  haversacks  stood  at  their 
heads.  Wickedly  we  all  went  to  plundering 
the  loo-day  men  as  they  slept.  We  exchanged 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       1/5 

our  empty  haversacks  for  full  ones,  and  every 
man  of  us  had  a  spare  haversack  filled  with 
food  hanging  on  the  guns  or  caissons.  At  the 
time  I  thought  it  a  capital  joke  on  the  Ohio 
men  ;  but  I  now  think  that  some  of  those  men 
were  very  hungry  before  they  got  any  thing  to 
eat.  They  must  have  bitter  recollections  of 
the  night  march  of  some  of  the  Second  Corps' 
artillery. 

In  the  morning  we  marched  over  ground 
where  there  had  been  fighting  the  evening  be 
fore.  Sitting  at  the  base  of  a  pine  tree  I  saw 
a  line  sergeant.  His  face  was  stained  with 
blood,  which  had  oozed  from  under  a  bandage 
made  of  an  old  shirt  sleeve,  tightly  bound 
around  his  eyes.  By  his  side  sat  a  little  drum 
mer  boy,  with  unstrung  drum  and  the  sticks 
put  up  standing  on  the  ground  before  him. 
The  muscular  form  of  the  sergeant  was  bent 
forward,  his  chin  resting  on  his  hands,  his  elbows 
on  his  knees.  His  figure  conveyed  to  me  the 
impression  of  utter  hopelessness.  The  small 
drummer  looked  up  the  road,  and  then  down 
the  road,  with  anxious  gaze.  I  stopped  for  an 
instant,  and  asked,  "  What  is  the  matter?" 
The  drummer  looked  up  at  me,  his  blue  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  and  answered :  "  He  's  my 


1?6        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

father.  Both  his  eyes  were  blinded  on  the 
picket  line  this  morning.  I  am  waiting  for  an 
ambulance  to  come  along.  I  don't  know  where 
the  field  hospitals  are."  I  hurriedly  pointed  in 
the  direction  of  some  field  hospitals  we  had 
passed  a  few  hundred  yards  back.  The  two 
rose  up  and  walked  slowly  off,  the  son  leading 
his  blinded  father  by  the  hand,  leading  him  to 
the  operating-table,  and  I  hastened  on,  swallow 
ing  my  tears  and  cursing  the  delay  to  take 
Petersburg. 

Some  stragglers,  bearing  the  red  cross  on 
their  caps,  were  passed,  and  we  were  satisfied 
that  we  were  not  merely  changing  position, 
but  that  we  were  on  the  flanking  move  again. 
We  got  into  a  thickly  wooded  country,  and, 
without  a  particle  of  warning,  the  men  in  gray 
burst  from  cover  and  were  on  us.  There  was 
some  exceedingly  severe  fighting  here,  and  we 
got  decidedly  the  worst  of  it,  being  driven 
back  beyond  the  Jerusalem  plank-road  in  great 
disorder.  A  group  of  artillerymen,  some  of 
them  wounded,  came  down  the  line  and  dropped 
into  our  battery.  They  told  us  that  their  bat 
tery  had  been  captured,  and  that  the  infantry 
who  fought  near  their  guns  had  lost  severely, 
many  prisoners  being  taken  by  the  Confeder- 


FIGHTING  AROUND  PETERSBURG.       I// 

ates  ;  but  that  when  they  left,  our  troops  were 
holding  their  ground,  and  had  connected  with 
the  Sixth  Corps.  We  held  the  ground  we  were 
fighting  on,  slept  on  it,  and  the  next  morning 
again  pushed  on  in  column,  to  be  again  savagely 
attacked  on  our  flank  by  heavy  masses  of  Con 
federate  infantry  in  column.  Again  we  were 
roughly  handled,  losing  more  guns  and  many 
prisoners.  The  country  was  so  densely  wooded 
that  I  could  see  but  little  of  this  fighting.  I 
simply  served  my  gun,  and  looked  ahead  into 
the  forest,  expecting  to  be  hit  by  a  rifle-ball  at 
any  instant.  Next  morning  we  pushed  on 
again,  having  driven  the  Confederates  off  during 
the  night,  and  soon  reached  the  Weldon  Rail 
road.  There  we  got  soundly  thrashed  and 
gladly  retreated,  having  lost  more  guns  and 
many  more  prisoners. 

I  talked  to  some  rebel  prisoners  and  swapped 
food  for  tobacco.  They  told  me  that  it  was 
Hill's  Corps  which  had  been  so  persistently 
attentive  to  us.  They  were  inclined  to  boast 
about  one  of  their  corps  handling  two  of  our 
crack  corps.  In  truth  they  had  torn  us  badly. 
One  long-legged,  dangling  Cracker,  with  a  broad, 
derisive  grin  on  his  face,  which  displayed  his 
long,  tobacco-stained  teeth,  said  to  me,  drawl- 


I  ?  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

ingly :  "  Say,  sonny,  did  you  clover-leaf  chaps 
get  a  bellyful?"  I  assured  him  we  had  room 
for  more,  whereat  he  grinned  and  marched  to 
the  rear  with  his  comrades. 

I  had  had  enough  of  marching  and  fighting — 
enough  of  seeing  good  men's  lives  squandered 
in  assaults  against  earthworks.  The  continuous 
strain  was  greater  than  the  soldiers,  poorly  fed 
and  exposed  to  the  weather  (the  enlisted  men 
had  no  tents  during  this  bloody  and  wasteful 
campaign),  could  bear.  As  I  have  said,  I  got 
heartsick  and  weary  of  the  fighting,  and  believed 
that  Grant  could  not  capture  Petersburg  until 
he  had  disciplined  his  army,  which  would  take 
months,  as  by  far  the  larger  portion  of  the 
troops  were  new  to  the  field,  and  were  bounty- 
paid  recruits.  About  70,000  of  the  good  men 
we  had  crossed  the  Rapidan  with  lay  dead  be 
hind  us,  or  were  in  hospitals,  or  languished  in 
Confederate  military  prisons.  So  I,  one  morn 
ing,  claimed  my  discharge,  which  had  been 
ordered  by  Secretary  of  War  Stanton  while  we 
were  fighting  in  front  of  Cold  Harbor.  Getting 
it,  I  went  to  Washington,  where  a  commission 
in  the  Fourth  United  States  Artillery  awaited 
me. 


X. 


CONDITION   OF  THE  ARMY     OF    THE   POTOMAC 
AFTER   PETERSBURG. 

r  I  "HE  memories  of  the  war  are  growing  dim. 
The  ranks  of  the  men  who  carried  arms 
through  Grant's  last  campaign  are  being  thinned 
rapidly  by  death.  In  a  few  years  all  of  us  will 
join  our  comrades  who  fell  dead  along  the 
bloody  trail  that  led  from  the  Wilderness  thick 
ets  to  the  fair  fields  that  surrounded  the  be 
leaguered  cities  of  Petersburg  and  Richmond. 
If  a  truthful  statement  is  to  be  made  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac,  of  its  morale,  when  the 
enlisted  men  sank  exhausted  into  their  trenches 
before  Petersburg,  it  must  be  made  quickly  or 
not  at  all.  I  write  this  chapter  after  much  con 
sideration,  and  I  write  it  solely  in  the  interests 
of  truth  and  to  put  permanently  on  record,  so 
that  future  generations  of  Americans  can  read  it, 
the  opinions  of  many  intelligent  men  who  fought 
in  the  ranks  throughout  that  bloody  campaign. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  of  June  18,  1864,  and 
179 


180        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

while  the  battery  to  which  I  belonged  was 
actively  shelling  a  Confederate  earthwork,  and 
getting  shelled  in  return,  a  brigade  of  infantry 
passed  close  behind  our  guns.  I  was  sick  with 
a  coming  fever.  I  had  exhausted  my  strength 
in  the  morning,  and  was  serving  at  the  caissons 
during  the  afternoon.  The  brigade  of  infantry 
passed  within  five  yards  of  me.  The  infantry 
were  weak  and  looked  tired.  Their  steps  were 
slow.  The  appearance  of  these  troops  attrac 
ted  my  attention.  I  saw  that  they  were  veter 
ans,  and  greatly  superior  to  the  motley  crew 
into  which  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  had  de 
generated.  The  brigade  was  about  500  mus 
kets  strong.  I  spoke  to  one  of  the  men,  asking 
what  command  it  was,  and  he  answered,  whether 
truthfully  or  not  I  cannot  say,  "  The  Excelsior 
Brigade  of  the  Second  Corps."  That  brigade 
was  a  fighting  brigade,  justly  famed  throughout 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  for  their  desperate 
valor.  It  was  the  peer  of  the  famous  brigades 
from  Vermont  and  New  Hampshire. 

"  Going  in  to  the  charge,  men  ?  "  I  asked. 

Nine  or  ten  of  the  tired  infantry  soldiers 
heard  the  question,  and  they  growled  out  an  ex 
planatory  answer  in  tones  that  expressed  the 
most  profound  disgust : 


ARMY  OF   THE  POTOMAC.  l8l 

"  No,  we  are  not  going  to  charge.  We  are  go 
ing  to  run  towards  the  Confederate  earthworks, 
and  then  we  are  going  to  run  back.  We  have 
had  enough  of  assaulting  earthworks.  We  are 
hungry  and  tired,  and  we  want  to  rest  and  to 
eat." 

I  spoke  to  other  men  farther  down  the  short 
column,  and,  in  effect,  received  the  same  answer. 
I  went  to  the  rear  after  ammunition  that  after 
noon,  and  I  met  other  troops  going  to  the 
front.  I  spoke  to  many  of  these  men,  and  all 
I  spoke  to  were  resolute  in  their  purpose  not 
to  make  a  determined  charge  of  the  Confeder 
ate  intrenchments.  And  they  did  not. 

At  the  time,  in  the  latter  part  of  June,  1864, 
it  was  freely  charged  by  the  generals  employed 
in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  that  the  army 
was  not  fighting  as  stanchly  at  Petersburg  as  it 
had  fought  in  the  Wilderness  or  at  Spottsyl- 
vania.  The  charge  was  true.  But  was  it  the 
enlisted  men  alone  who  shrank  from  the  bloody 
work  of  assaulting  earthworks  behind  which 
the  clear-eyed,  nervy,  veteran  Confederate  in 
fantry  lurked  ?  Let  the  figures,  presumably 
official,  as  published  in  the  work  entitled 
"  Grant  and  his  Campaigns,"  speak  in  answer, 
and  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  these  figures 


182         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

were  never  accepted  by  the  enlisted  men  as 
truthfully  representing  their  losses  during  the 
campaign.  We  had  seen  regiments  melt  be 
fore  the  heat  of  the  Confederate  fire,  until 
a  scant  hundred  men  fell  into  line  when  the 
drum  tapped.  We  had  seen  brigades  fall  into 
battle  line  three  hundred  muskets  strong.  Once 
at  Cold  Harbor  two  regiments  were  sent  to 
support  my  battery.  I  smiled  sorrowfully  at 
the  scanty  array.  One  hundred  and  twenty 
muskets,  sixty  files,  were  all  that  were  left  of 
two  Delaware  regiments.  We  had  seen  heavy- 
artillery  regiments,  which  joined  us  at  Spottsyl- 
vania,  1,500,  1,600,  1,700  men  strong,  fall  into 
line  before  Petersburg  400,  500,  600  men 
strong,  and  to  come  back  from  the  assault  de 
livered  on  June  18,  1864,  still  weaker.  The 
enlisted  men  who  passed  unharmed  through  the 
frightful  carnage,  judged  the  losses  the  army 
suffered  by  the  actual  losses  that  had  occurred 
in  regiments  with  which  we  were  familiar. 

To  the  official  figures.  During  May,  1864, 
which  period  of  time  includes  the  prolonged 
study  of  Confederate  intrenchments  at  North 
Anna,  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  lost  395 
officers  killed,  1,343  wounded,  and  21 1  missing. 
Five  or  six  general  officers  were  killed  and  ten 


ARMY  OF   THE  POTOMAC.  183 

or  twelve  wounded  during  the  month.  In  the 
same  month  5,189  enlisted  men  were  killed, 
27,140  wounded,  and  7,239  were  missing.  From 
May  3 1st  to  Oct.  28th,  the  day  on  which  the 
campaign  practically  ended,  in  the  Potomac 
Army  401  officers  were  killed,  1,453  wounded, 
and  564  missing;  during  the  same  time  4,587 
enlisted  men  were  killed,  24,110  were  wounded, 
and  15,844  were  missing.  The  aggregate  losses 
after  the  fighting  at  North  Anna  were  46,989 
enlisted  men  and  officers.  And  the  enlisted 
men  never  heard  of'  but  one  general  officer 
being  killed.  He  was  Brigadier-General  Burn- 
ham.  They  heard  of  three  or  four  other  gen 
erals  being  wounded,  and  of  two  being  cap 
tured.  During  this  same  time — that  is,  after 
the  battle  of  North  Anna — we  learned  from 
prisoners  that  the  Confederate  Generals  Doles, 
Chambliss,  Gherardio,  Dunnovan,  and  Gregg 
had  been  killed,  and  many  of  their  generals 
wounded.  And  it  must  be  remembered  that 
the  Confederate  generals  were  behind  shelter 
ing  earthworks  with  their  troops.  The  execu 
tion  of  their  duty  made  it  essential  that  they 
should  be  there.  Our  losses  of  general  officers, 
if  they  had  fearlessly  performed  their  duty, 
should  have  been  at  least  four  times  as  heavy 


1 84        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

as  those  of  the  Confederates.  Instead  of  one 
Union  general  being  killed  to  over  44,000  en 
listed  men  stricken  in  battle,  there  should  have 
been  at  least  twenty  of  them  killed  and  eighty 
of  them  wounded,  and  there  probably  would 
have  been  if  they  had  done  their  duty  as  reck 
lessly  as  the  Confederate  generals  did  theirs. 
Let  me  go  west,  and  to  the  battle  of  Franklin, 
to  illustrate  my  meaning.  On  the  afternoon  of 
November  30,  1864,  the  Confederate  generals 
led  their  veteran  infantry  to  the  assault  against 
the  hastily  constructed  Union  earthworks, 
thrown  up  across  a  broad  neck  of  land  formed 
by  a  bend  in  the  Harpeth  River,  in  Tennessee. 
The  attack  began  at  4  P.M.  It  was  dark  at  6 
P.M.  The  fight  lasted  until  about  10  P.M.  Say 
six  hours  of  fighting,  four  of  which  were  per 
formed  after  dark,  when  it  was  impossible  for 
infantry  to  select  generals  as  targets,  or  to  shoot 
accurately.  The  Confederates  lost  about  6,000 
enlisted  men  in  this  action,  and  four  Confeder 
ate  generals  were  killed  and  six  so  severely 
wounded  that  they  left  the  front.  In  truth, 
every  general  in  the  Confederate  army  which 
fought  at  Franklin,  excepting  General  Hood, 
was  either  killed  or  wounded.  So  fought  the 
Confederate  leaders  in  the  field.  So  Southern 


ARMY  OF   THE  POTOMAC.  185 

generals  led  their  soldiers  to  death  and  shared 
it  with  them. 

It  is  true  the  regulars,  typified  by  Major- 
General  Griffin  of  the  Fifth  Corps,  and  volun 
teers  by  Major-General  Francis  C.  Barlow  of 
the  Second  Corps,  commanded  the  universal 
respect  of  the  enlisted  men.  We  knew  the 
righting  generals  and  we  respected  them,  and 
we  knew  the  cowards  and  despised  them. 

It  was  frequently  and  truthfully  asserted  that 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  did  not  fight  as 
steadily  and  persistently  around  Petersburg  as 
it  had  done  in  the  Wilderness  and  around 
Spottsylvania.  In  other  words,  that  the  great 
army  had  become  demoralized.  I  believe  that 
the  demoralization  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
was  due  to  two  causes,  which  were  at  that  time 
fully  understood  by  all  the  intelligent  volun 
teers  in  the  army.  The  first  and  minor  cause 
was  the  shirking  of  bloody  work  by  some  of  the 
generals,  which  disheartened  the  enlisted  men 
and  imbittered  them. 

The  second  and  potent  cause  of  the  demorali 
zation  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  was  the 
worthless  character  of  the  recruits  who  were 
supplied  to  the  army  in  1864-65,  In  1864 
requisitions  calling  for  500,000  troops  were 


1 86        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

made  on  the  North.  So  thoroughly  exhausted 
was  the  breed  of  fighting  men  in  the  North 
that  but  169,000  of  the  enormous  number  of 
men  raised  by  purchase  ever  stood  in  battle 
ranks,  and  they  stood  there  because  they  had 
been  unable  to  elude  the  vigilance  or  corrupt 
the  honesty  of  the  guards  who  accompanied 
them  from  the  recruiting  barracks  to  the  front. 
Since  man  has  been  on  earth  the  race  has  been 
divided  into  classes,  one  of  which  is  the  crimi 
nal  class.  This  class  live  by  plundering  the 
producing  class.  They  live  by  theft,  by  mur 
der,  by  cheating,  by  pandering  to  the  ignoble 
vices  of  men.  When  the  Northern  townships 
began  to  pay  bounties  for  recruits  to  fill  the 
quotas  allotted  to  them,  the  criminal  class  of 
America  quit  preying  on  society  at  large,  and 
turned  their  attention  to  swindling  the  govern 
ment.  They  accepted  the  bounty  offered  by 
the  towns  and  enlisted.  When  the  bounties 
were  paid  to  them  they  deserted  and  enlisted 
in  another  town,  to  again  desert.  Bounty- 
jumping  was  the  safest  and  most  profitable 
business  in  the  United  States  during  those 
days.  The  boldest  and  most  intelligent  of  the 
criminal  class  never  appeared  at  the  front. 
They  escaped.  The  weak,  the  diseased,  the 


ARMY  OF   THE  POTOMAC.  l8/ 

feeble-minded  joined  the  army.  They  were 
the  scum  of  the  slums  of  the  great  European 
and  American  cities.  To  these  were  added  the 
rakings  of  rural  almshouses  and  the  never-do- 
wells  of  villages.  The  recruits  were  faint 
hearted  and  stupid.  Many  were  irreclaimable 
blackguards,  wholly  given  over  to  numerous 
ignoble  and  unnamable  vices.  They  were 
moral  lepers.  They  were  conscienceless,  cow 
ardly  scoundrels,  and  the  clean-minded  Ameri 
can  and  Irish  and  German  volunteers  would 
not  associate  with  them. 

Directly  after  the  battle  of  Cold  Harbor  these 
pretended  soldiers  began  to  be  noticeable  in  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac.  They  were  not  the 
heavy-artillery  men  drawn  by  Grant  from 
Washington  to  make  good  his  losses.  We  had 
no  better  troops  than  those.  But  these  men 
were  the  bounty-paid  substitutes.  They  were 
the  white  slaves,  whom  greedy  and  unpatriotic 
men,  who  preyed  on  the  necessities  of  timid 
communities,  gathered  from  the  slums,  from 
Castle  Garden,  from  the  almshouses,  from  the 
cots  of  venereal  hospitals,  from  the  bars  of 
criminal  courts,  from  prison  cells,  and  from  the 
unnatural  parents  of  weak-minded  sons.  After 
gathering  the  foul  creatures,  they  kept  them  in 


1 88        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

pens  and  private  prisons.  Over  the  doors  of 
these  dens  swung  signs,  and  blazoned  on 
them  in  gilt  letters  were  shameful  legends 
which  announced  that  within  a  man  dealt  in 
alleged  men,  and  that  the  honor  of  townships 
could  be  pawned  there.  A  Mississippi  slave- 
dealer  was  a  refined  and  honorable  gentleman 
in  comparison  with  a  Northern  bounty-broker, 
who  sold  men  to  the  townships  which  filled 
their  quotas  by  purchase.  I  have  seen  these 
substitutes,  many  of  them  unable  to  speak 
English,  vermin  infested,  rough-skinned,  stink 
ing  with  disease,  their  eyes  running  matter, 
their  legs  and  arms  thin  and  feeble,  their  backs 
bowed,  and  their  rat-like  and  idiot-like  heads 
hanging  low,  join  the  army  to  be  virtually 
kicked  out  of  the  decent  commands  they  were 
billeted  on.  They  were  scorned,  kicked,  and 
cursed  by  the  volunteers  as  mangy  curs.  These 
degraded  men  formed  the  "  coffee  boilers." 

I  first  saw  systematic  "  coffee  boiling,"  a  sure 
sign  that  discipline  was  relaxed,  at  Cold  Har 
bor.  In  the  woods  to  the  rear  and  right  of  my 
battery,  groups  of  unwounded  men  cooked  and 
boiled  coffee.  These  men  had  dropped  out  of 
their  commands  as  they  approached  the  battle 
line,  and  had  hidden  in  the  woods.  There 


ARMY  OF   THE  POTOMAC.  189 

were  hundreds  of  them  in  the  army  at  Cold 
Harbor.  There  were  hundreds  of  them  around 
Petersburg.  They  sneaked  away  from  their 
regiments  during  battle,  or  while  marching  to 
battle,  to  rejoin  them  when  on  the  march. 
They  were  always  present  when  rations  were  is 
sued.  They  were  never  present  when  cartridges 
were  supplied.  They  were,  without  exception, 
thieves.  They  robbed  the  dead.  They  stole 
from  the  living.  They  were  strongly  suspected 
of  killing  wounded  men  at  night.  More  cow 
ardly  creatures  were  never  clad  in  the  uniform 
of  English-speaking  peoples.  They  plundered 
houses.  They  frightened  women  and  little 
children.  They  burned  dwellings.  To  call  a 
soldier  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  a  "  coffee 
boiler  "  was  an  insult  to  be  promptly  resented. 
These  worthless  creatures  weakened  every 
battle  line  they  were  forced  into.  No  matter 
how  brave  a  veteran  soldier  may  be,  he  relies 
on  the  men  on  either  side  of  him  to  stand  there 
until  they  fall.  He  relies  on  them  to  accom 
pany  him  in  the  advance,  and  to  be  by  his  side 
when  slowly  falling  back  before  a  superior  force. 
It  is  essential  that  a  soldier  hears  the  voices  of 
his  comrades  when  he  is  charging.  He  must 
know  that  his  comrades  are  as  stanch  fighters 


190        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

as  he.  Then  he  can  fight  with  comparative 
comfort.  How  was  it  with  the  larger  portions 
of  the  bounty-paid  recruits  raised  in  1864?  It 
did  not  lie  within  the  power  of  any  regimental 
officers  to  hold  these  undisciplined  blackguards 
steady  under  fire.  Dozens  of  times  I  have 
seen  them  break  and  run,  throwing  away  their 
arms  as  they  fled,  yelling,  to  the  rear  and  to 
their  coffee-pots.  They  weakened  the  battle 
lines,  as  no  man  can  fight  when  surrounded  by 
cowards,  who  are  easily  panic-stricken,  and  who 
are  unrestrained  by  any  consideration  of  pride 
from  ignominiously  running  away  to  save  their 
lives.  No  man  really  enjoys  a  battle.  One 
has  to  string  up  his  nerves  and  take  a  firm  grip 
on  himself  morally,  and  hold  himself  in  the 
battle  flames  for  a  few  moments  until  warmed 
to  passion.  The  impulse  is  to  run  out  of  the 
danger.  The  men  the  bounty-brokers  supplied 
to  the  army  had  no  morality,  no  sentiment 
except  of  fear,  and  they  could  not  and  would 
not  stand  fire.  They  desired  to  live  to  enjoy 
the  spending  of  the  money  they  had  received. 
So  they  shirked,  and  ran,  and  boiled  coffee  in 
the  rear  until  gathered  up  by  the  provost 
guards  and  sent  to  their  regiments.  They  were 
disciplined  somewhat  during  the  winter  of 


ARMY  OF   THE  POTOMAC.  ipl 

1864-65.  Previous  to  the  spring  of  1865  the 
larger  portion  of  the  bounty-paid  recruits  would 
not  have  been  worth  burning  Confederate  pow 
der  to  kill,  as  their  presence  in  our  ranks  im 
paired  the  efficiency  of  our  army.  They  could 
have  been  safely  killed  with  clubs. 

After  the  battle  of  June  18,  1864,  the  enlisted 
men  frequently  discussed  the  condition  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac.  They  sat  o'  nights  in 
groups  behind  the  intrenchments  and  talked, 
talked,  talked  of  the  disintegrating  force  which 
Grant  commanded.  Enormous  losses  of  prison 
ers  were  reported,  losses  that  were  incurred  while 
charging  earthworks,  which  fact  clearly  showed 
that  our  troops  had  surrendered  after  reaching 
the  Confederate  intrenchments  —  surrendered 
rather  than  attempt  to  take  them  or  to  return 
to  our  line  under  the  deadly  accurate  fire  of  the 
Confederate  infantry.  Many  of  the  volunteers 
vehemently  asserted  that  the  bounty-paid  re 
cruits  really  deserted  during  action  to  seek 
safety  in  Confederate  prison  pens.  The  en 
listed  men  who  had  gathered  into  ranks  under 
McClellan,  and  who  had  been  forged  into 
soldiers  by  that  admirable  drill-master,  all  said 
that  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  of  1862  was  far 
superior,  man  to  man,  to  that  which  crossed 


I92        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

the  Rapidan  in  May  of  1864,  and  immeasur 
ably  superior  to  the  army  which  lay  in  the 
trenches  before  Petersburg  in  July  of  1864. 
They  also  asserted,  and  truthfully,  that  if  the 
original  volunteers,  or  men  as  good  as  they 
were,  were  commanded  by  Grant  he  would 
capture  Richmond  in  twenty-four  hours.  The 
enlisted  men  spent  much  time  in  comparing 
Grant  with  McClellan.  The  latter  had  many 
warm  friends  among  the  soldiers.  He  only  of 
all  the  men  who  had  commanded  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac  was  personally  liked  and  admired 
by  his  troops.  Soldiers'  eyes  would  brighten 
when  they  talked  of  him.  Their  hard,  lean, 
browned  faces  would  soften  and  light  up  with 
affection  when  they  spoke  of  him, — and  still  it 
was  affection  only;  they  did  not,  as  a  rule,  con 
cede  to  him  military  talent.  And  the  general 
opinion  among  them  was ;  given  Grant  in  com 
mand  of  the  army  in  1862,  and  the  rebellion 
would  have  been  crushed  that  year.  Asked 
how  McClellan  would  have  done  with  the  army 
of  1864  under  his  command,  they  shrugged 
their  shoulders  and  said  dryly :  "  Well,  he 
would  have  ended  the  war  in  the  Wilderness — 
by  establishing  the  Confederacy." 

One  night  as  we  sat  around  the  guns  talking 


ARMY  OF    THE  POTOMAC.  1 93 

with  visitors  from  a  New  Hampshire  regiment, 
a  private,  young  in  years,  but  old  in  service, 
said  : 

"  McClellan  expected  American  volunteers  to 
fight  day  after  day.  Outfought  and  beaten  to 
day,  they  must  fight  to-morrow  as  though  ever 
victorious,  and  they  did  it  when  he  commanded 
them.  He  taught  us  to  fight,  and  all  that  is 
good  in  this  many-tongued  crew  of  Grant's,  the 
leaven  of  it,  is  the  remnant  of  McClellan's  army. 
Grant  has  not  moulded  one  man  in  this  vast 
mob.  He  has  filled  our  ranks  as  best  he  could, 
but  he  depends  on  the  men  who  sprang  to  arms 
when  the  Northern  war-drum  sounded,  to  sup 
ply  these  bounty-jumping  recruits  with  courage 
and  to  teach  them  their  duty.  Take  the  volun 
teers  away  from  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and 
Lee  could  drown  the  rest  of  this  army  in  the 
James  River  without  firing  a  shot." 

"  Drown  them  !  "  exclaimed  a  young  soldier 
who  was  raised  on  the  shores  of  Sunapee  Lake 
in  New  Hampshire.  "  Drown  them  !  Curse 
them!  I  am  afraid  to  fight  with  any  of 
them  standing  by  my  side.  There  is  a  man 
from  Manchester,  who  was  paid  $1,000  for  en 
listing,  whose  place  in  line  is  next  to  me.  It 
keeps  me  busy  to  hold  him  from  running  away 


194        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

whenever  we  are  under  fire.  Some  day  he  will 
be  so  badly  frightened  that  he  will  run  toward 
the  Confederates  instead  of  away  from  them, 
and  then  I  am  going  to  kill  him.  If  ever  he 
gets  a  little  ahead  of  me,  so  that  I  can  safely 
kill  him,  I  will  gather  him  in."  No  one  seemed 
to  be  shocked  at  his  intention.  "  Drown 
them  ?  "  he  scornfully  repeated  ;  "  Lee's  vet 
erans  drown  them  ?  Yes,  they  could  push 
them  into  the  James  River  with  pine  poles, 
and  as  they  sank  they  would  howl  for  mercy 
in  twenty-seven  languages.  See  here,  men/'  he 
added,  impressively,  "  if  Grant  ever  intends  to 
take  yonder  earthworks,"  jerking  his  thumb 
over  his  shoulder  to  indicate  the  Confederate 
lines,  "  he  has  got  to  give  these  bounty-jumpers 
about  six  months  of  steady  drilling,  six  months 
of  severe  discipline,  six  months  of  punishment 
and  savage  abuse.  They  have  got  to  be  pound 
ed  and  hammered  until  they  are  in  abject  fear 
of  their  line  officers  and  are  taught  that  to 
shrink  means  death.  If  Grant  gives  them  that, 
they  can  be  made  to  fight  next  spring.  Good 
God,  men  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  was  sent  to  City 
Point  the  other  day,  and  I  passed  a  short  column 
of  troops  who  were  moving  to  the  front,  and  I 
saw  dozens  of  the  men  fall  out  and  endeavor 


ARMY  OF   THE  POTOMAC.  1 95 

to  hide  in  the  brush  and  woods.  Behind  the 
column  came  a  detachment  of  the  provost 
guards,  and  these  soldiers  had  to  pick  up  and 
head  off  and  surround  the  abject  wretches  who 
sought  to  hide  long  before  they  were  within 
sight  of  the  line  of  fire.  They  were  panic- 
stricken  at  the  prospect  of  fighting.  They 
had  to  be  prodded  with  bayonets  to  make 
them  follow  the  column.  Things  have  come 
to  a  pretty  pass  in  this  army  if  a  column  of 
troops  cannot  be  moved  from  one  camp  to  an 
other  without  being  herded  as  sheep  driven 
along  a  highway !  American  volunteers  !  "  he 
scornfully  exclaimed  ;  "  American  volunteers, 
and  marched  to  camp  or  to  battle  under  provost 
guards  !  They  are  not  Americans,  they  are  not 
volunteers :  they  are  the  offscouring  of  Europe. 
They  disgrace  our  uniform."  Here  his  scorn 
overcame  him.  He  spat  on  the  ground,  arose 
and  disappeared  in  the  forest  with  a  yell  of  dis 
gust.  And  I  knew  that  every  word  he  had 
uttered  was  true. 

Throughout  the  latter  portion  of  the  cam 
paign  the  enlisted  men,  the  volunteers,  com 
plained  bitterly  of  the  lack  of  judgment  dis 
played  by  some  of  the  commanding  officers, 
and  as  freely  as  I  talked  with  my  comrades,  as 


1^6        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A    PRIVATE. 

dirty,  vermin-infested,  and  hungry  we  sat  be 
hind  our  earthworks,  so  freely  do  I  claim  the 
right  to  write  now.  I  have  faithfully  endeav 
ored  to  tell  how  the  enlisted  men,  who  put  down 
the  slaveholders'  rebellion,  felt  and  talked  and 
lived  in  hopes  long  deferred  and  never  fulfilled, 
of  the  coming  of  a  great  commander  whose 
military  talent  would  command  our  unquali 
fied  respect.  He  never  came. 


XI. 

HOW   MEN   DIE    IN   BATTLE. 

ALMOST  every  death  on  the  battle-field  is 
different.  And  the  manner  of  the  death 
depends  on  the  wound  and  on  the  man,  whether 
he  is  cowardly  or  brave,  whether  his  vitality  is 
large  or  small,  whether  he  is  a  man  of  active 
imagination  or  is  dull  of  intellect,  whether  he 
is  of  nervous  or  lymphatic  temperament.  I 
instance  deaths  and  wounds  that  I  saw  in 
Grant's  last  campaign. 

On  the  second  day  of  the  battle  of  the  Wil 
derness,  where  I  fought  as  an  infantry  soldier, 
I  saw  more  men  killed  and  wounded  than  I  did 
before  or  after  in  the  same  time.  I  knew  but 
few  of  the  men  in  the  regiment  in  whose  ranks 
I  stood  ;  but  I  learned  the  Christian  names  of 
some  of  them.  The  man  who  stood  next  to 
me  on  my  right  was  called  Will.  He  was  cool, 
brave,  and  intelligent.  In  the  morning,  when 
the  Second  Corps  was  advancing  and  driving 
Hill's  soldiers  slowly  back,  I  was  flurried.  He 
197 


IQ8        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

noticed  it,  and  steadied  my  nerves  by  saying, 
kindly:  "Don't  fire  so  fast.  This  fight  will 
last  all  day.  Don't  hurry.  Cover  your  man 
before  you  pull  your  trigger.  Take  it  easy, 
my  boy,  take  it  easy,  and  your  cartridges  will 
last  the  longer."  This  man  fought  effectively. 
During  the  day  I  had  learned  to  look  up  to  this 
excellent  soldier,  and  lean  on  him.  Toward 
evening,  as  we  were  being  slowly  driven  back 
to  the  Brock  Road  by  Longstreet's  men,  we 
made  a  stand.  I  was  behind  a  tree  firing,  with 
my  rifle  barrel  resting  on  the  stub  of  a  limb. 
Will  was  standing  by  my  side,  but  in  the  open. 
He,  with  a  groan,  doubled  up  and  dropped  on 
the  ground  at  my  feet.  He  looked  up  at  me. 
His  face  was  pale.  He  gasped  for  breath  a  few 
times,  and  then  said,  faintly  :  "  That  ends  me. 
I  am  shot  through  the  bowels."  I  said  :  "  Crawl 
to  the  rear.  We  are  not  far  from  the  intrench- 
ments  along  the  Brock  Road."  I  saw  him  sit 
up,  and  indistinctly  saw  him  reach  for  his  rifle, 
which  had  fallen  from  his  hands  as  he  fell. 
Again  I  spoke  to  him,  urging  him  to  go  to  the 
rear.  He  looked  at  me  and  said  impatiently: 
"  I  tell  you  that  I  am  as  good  as  dead.  There 
is  no  use  in  fooling  with  me.  I  shall  stay  here." 
Then  he  pitched  forward  dead,  shot  again  and 


HO  W  MEN  DIE  IN  BA  TTLE.  1 99 

through  the  head.  We  fell  back  before  Long- 
street's  soldiers  and  left  Will  lying  in  a  windrow 
of  dead  men. 

When  we  got  into  the  Brock  Road  intrench- 
ments,  a  man  a  few  files  to  my  left  dropped 
dead,  shot  just  above  the  right  eye.  He  did 
not  groan,  or  sigh,  or  make  the  slightest  physical 
movement,  except  that  his  chest  heaved  a  few 
times.  The  life  went  out  of  his  face  instantly, 
leaving  it  without  a  particle  of  expression.  It 
was  plastic,  and,  as  the  facial  muscles  con 
tracted,  it  took  many  shapes.  When  this 
man's  body  became  cold,  and  his  face  hard 
ened,  it  was  horribly  distorted,  as  though  he 
had  suffered  intensely.  Any  person  who  had 
not  seen  him  killed,  would  have  said  that  he 
had  endured  supreme  agony  before  death  re 
leased  him.  A  few  minutes  after  he  fell,  an 
other  man,  a  little  farther  to  the  left,  fell  with 
apparently  a  precisely  similar  wound.  He  was 
straightened  out  and  lived  for  over  an  hour. 
He  did  not  speak.  Simply  lay  on  his  back,  and 
his  broad  chest  rose  and  fell,  slowly  at  first, 
and  then  faster  and  faster,  and  more  and  more 
feebly,  until  he  was  dead.  And  his  face  hard 
ened,  and  it  was  almost  terrifying  in  its  painful 
distortion.  I  have  seen  dead  soldiers'  faces 


2OO        RECOLLECTIONS   OF  A   PRIVATE. 

which  were  wreathed  in  smiles,  and  heard  their 
comrades  say  that  they  had  died  happy.  I  do 
not  believe  that  the  face  of  a  dead  soldier,  lying 
on  a  battle-field,  ever  truthfully  indicates  the 
mental  or  physical  anguish,  or  peacefulness  of 
mind,  which  he  suffered  or  enjoyed  before  his 
death.  The  face  is  plastic  after  death,  and  as 
the  facial  muscles  cool  and  contract,  they  draw 
the  face  into  many  shapes.  Sometimes  the 
dead  smile,  again  they  stare  with  glassy  eyes, 
and  lolling  tongues,  and  dreadfully  distorted 
visages  at  you.  It  goes  for  nothing.  One  death 
was  as  painless  as  the  other. 

After  Longstreet's  soldiers  had  driven  the 
Second  Corps  into  their  intrenchments  along 
the  Brock  Road,  a  battle-exhausted  infantry 
man  stood  behind  a  large  oak  tree.  His  back 
rested  against  it.  He  was  very  tired,  and  held 
his  rifle  loosely  in  his  hand.  The  Confederates 
were  directly  in  our  front.  This  soldier  was 
apparently  in  perfect  safety.  A  solid  shot 
from  a  Confederate  gun  struck  the  oak  tree 
squarely  about  four  feet  from  the  ground  ;  but 
it  did  not  have  sufficient  force  to  tear  through 
the  tough  wood.  The  soldier  fell  dead.  There 
was  not  a  scratch  on  him.  He  was  killed  by 
concussion. 


HO  W  MEN  DIE  IN  BA  TTLE.  2O I 

While  we  were  fighting  savagely  over  these 
intrenchments  the  woods  in  our  front  caught 
fire,  and  I  saw  many  of  our  wounded  burned  to 
death.  Must  they  not  have  suffered  horribly  ? 
I  am  not  at  all  sure  of  that.  The  smoke  rolled 
heavily  and  slowly  before  the  fire.  It  enveloped 
the  wounded,  and  I  think  that  by  far  the  larger 
portion  of  the  men  who  were  roasted  were 
suffocated  before  the  flames  curled  round  them. 
The  spectacle  was  courage-sapping  and  pitiful, 
and  it  appealed  strongly  to  the  imagination  of 
the  spectators;  but  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
wounded  soldiers,  who  were  being  burned,  suf 
fered  greatly,  if  they  suffered  at  all. 

Wounded  soldiers,  it  mattered  not  how  slight 
the  wounds,  generally  hastened  away  from  the 
battle  lines.  A  wound  entitled  a  man  to  go  to 
the  rear  and  to  a  hospital.  Of  course  there 
were  many  exceptions  to  this  rule,  as  there 
would  necessarily  be  in  battles  where  from 
twenty  thousand  to  thirty  thousand  men  were 
wounded.  I  frequently  saw  slightly  wounded 
men  who  were  marching  with  their  colors.  I 
personally  saw  but  two  men  wounded  who 
continued  to  fight.  During  the  first  day's 
fighting  in  the  wilderness  I  saw  a  youth  of 
about  twenty  years  skip  and  yell,  stung  by  a 


202        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

bullet  through  the  thigh.  He  turned  to  limp 
to  the  rear.  After  he  had  gone  a  few  steps  he 
stopped,  then  he  kicked  out  his  leg  once  or 
twice  to  see  if  it  would  work.  Then  he  tore 
the  clothing  away  from  his  leg  so  as  to  see  the 
wound.  He  looked  at  it  attentively  for  an  in 
stant,  then  kicked  out  his  leg  again,  then  turned 
and  took  his  place  in  the  ranks  and  resumed 
firing.  There  was  considerable  disorder  in  the 
line,  and  the  soldiers  moved  to  and  fro — now  a 
few  feet  to  the  right,  now  a  few  feet  to  the  left. 
One  of  these  movements  brought  me  directly 
behind  this  wounded  soldier.  I  could  see 
plainly  from  that  position,  and  I  pushed  into 
the  gaping  line  and  began  firing.  In  a  minute 
or  two  the  wounded  soldier  dropped  his  rifle, 
and,  clasping  his  left  arm,  exclaimed :  "  I  am 
hit  again  !  "  He  sat  down  behind  the  battle 
ranks  and  tore  off  the  sleeve  of  his  shirt.  The 
wound  was  very  slight — not  much  more  than 
skin  deep.  He  tied  his  handkerchief  around  it, 
picked  up  his  rifle,  and  took  position  alongside 
of  me.  I  said  :  "  You  are  fighting  in  bad  luck 
to-day.  You  had  better  get  away  from  here." 
He  turned  his  head  to  answer  me.  His  head 
jerked,  he  staggered,  then  fell,  then  regained 
his  feet.  A  tiny  fountain  of  blood  and  teeth 


HO  W  MEN  DIE  IN  BA  TTLE.  2O3 

and  bone  and  bits  of  tongue  burst  out  of  his 
mouth.  He  had  been  shot  through  the  jaws  ; 
the  lower  one  was  broken  and  hung  down.  I 
looked  directly  into  his  open  mouth,  which  was 
ragged  and  bloody  and  tongueless.  He  cast 
his  rifle  furiously  on  the  ground  and  staggered 
off. 

The  next  day,  just  before  Longstreet's  sol 
diers  made  their  first  charge  on  the  Second 
Corps,  I  heard  the  peculiar  cry  a  stricken  man 
utters  as  the  bullet  tears  through  his  flesh.  I 
turned  my  head,  as  I  loaded  my  rifle,  to  see 
who  was  hit.  I  saw  a  bearded  Irishman  pull 
up  his  shirt.  He  had  been  wounded  in  the  left 
side  just  below  the  floating  ribs.  His  face  was 
gray  with  fear.  The  wound  looked  as  though 
it  were  mortal.  He  looked  at  it  for  an  instant, 
then  poked  it  gently  with  his  index  finger.  He 
flushed  redly,  and  smiled  with  satisfaction.  He 
tucked  his  shirt  into  his  trousers,  and  was  fight 
ing  in  the  ranks  again  before  I  had  capped  my 
rifle.  The  ball  had  cut  a  groove  in  his  skin 
only.  The  play  of  this  Irishman's  face  was  so 
expressive,  his  emotions  changed  so  quickly, 
that  I  could  not  keep  from  laughing. 

Near  Spottsylvania  I  saw,  as  my  battery  was 
moving  into  action,  a  group  of  wounded  men 


204         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVA  TE. 

lying  in  the  shade  cast  by  some  large  oak  trees. 
All  of  these  men's  faces  were  gray.  They  si 
lently  looked  at  us  as  we  marched  past  them. 
One  wounded  man,  a  blond  giant  of  about 
forty  years,  was  smoking  a  short  briar-wood 
pipe.  He  had  a  firm  grip  on  the  pipe-stem.  I 
asked  him  what  he  was  doing.  "  Having  my 
last  smoke,  young  fellow,"  he  replied.  His 
dauntless  blue  eyes  met  mine,  and  he  bravely 
tried  to  smile.  I  saw  that  he  was  dying  fast. 
Another  of  these  wounded  men  was  trying  to 
read  a  letter.  He  was  too  weak  to  hold  it,  or 
maybe  his  sight  was  clouded.  He  thrust  it 
unread  into  the  breast  pocket  of  his  blouse,  and 
lay  back  with  a  moan.  This  group  of  wounded 
men  numbered  fifteen  or  twenty.  At  the  time, 
I  thought  that  all  of  them  were  fatally  wound 
ed,  and  that  there  was  no  use  in  the  surgeons 
wasting  time  on  them,  when  men  who  could  be 
saved  were  clamoring  for  their  skilful  atten 
tion.  None  of  these  soldiers  cried  aloud,  none 
called  on  wife,  or  mother,  or  father.  They  lay 
on  the  ground,  pale-faced,  and  with  set  jaws, 
waiting  for  their  end.  They  moaned  and 
groaned  as  they  suffered,  but  none  of  them 
flunked.  When  my  battery  returned  from  the 
front,  five  or  six  hours  afterward,  almost  all  of 


HO  W  MEN  DIE  IN  BA  TTLE.  20$ 

these  men  were  dead.  Long  before  the  cam 
paign  was  over  I  concluded  that  dying  soldiers 
seldom  called  on  those  who  were  dearest  to 
them,  seldom  conjured  their  Northern  or  South 
ern  homes,  until  they  became  delirious.  Then, 
when  their  minds  wandered,  and  fluttered  at 
the  approach  of  freedom,  they  babbled  of  their 
homes.  Some  were  boys  again,  and  were  fish 
ing  in  Northern  trout  streams.  Some  were  gen 
erals  leading  their  men  to  victory.  Some  were 
with  their  wives  and  children.  Some  wandered 
over  their  family's  homestead  ;  but  all,  with 
rare  exceptions,  were  delirious. 

At  the  North  Anna  River,  my  battery  being 
in  action,  an  infantry  soldier,  one  of  our  sup 
ports,  who  was  lying  face  downward  close  be 
hind  the  gun  I  served  on,  and  in  a  place  where 
he  thought  he  was  safe,  was  struck  on  the  thighs 
by  a  large  jagged  piece  of  a  shell.  The  wound 
made  by  this  fragment  of  iron  was  as  horrible 
as  any  I  saw  in  the  army.  The  flesh  of  both 
thighs  was  torn  off,  exposing  the  bones.  The 
soldier  bled  to  death  in  a  few  minutes,  and  be 
fore  he  died  he  conjured  his  Northern  home, 
and  murmured  of  his  wife  and  children. 

In  the  same  battle,  but  on  the  south  side  of 
the  river,  a  man  who  carried  a  rifle  was  passing 


206        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

between  the  guns  and  caissons  of  the  battery. 
A  solid  shot,  intended  for  us,  struck  him  on  the 
side.  His  entire  bowels  were  torn  out  and 
slung  in  ribbons  and  shreds  on  the  ground. 
He  fell  dead,  but  his  arms  and  legs  jerked  con 
vulsively  a  few  times.  It  was  a  sickening  spec 
tacle.  During  this  battle  I  saw  a  Union  picket 
knocked  down,  probably  by  a  rifle-ball  striking 
his  head  and  glancing  from  it.  He  lay  as 
though  dead.  Presently  he  struggled  to  his 
feet,  and  with  blood  streaming  from  his  head, 
he  staggered  aimlessly  round  and  round  in  a 
circle,  as  sheep  afflicted  with  grubs  in  the  brain 
do.  Instantly  the  Confederate  sharp-shooters 
opened  fire  on  him  and  speedily  killed  him  as 
he  circled. 

Wounded  soldiers  almost  always  tore  their 
clothing  away  from  their  wounds,  so  as  to  see 
them  and  to  judge  of  their  character.  Many  of 
them  would  smile  and  their  faces  would  bright 
en  as  they  realized  that  they  were  not  hard  hit, 
and  that  they  could  go  home  for  a  few  months. 
Others  would  give  a  quick  glance  at  their 
wounds  and  then  shrink  back  as  from  a  blow, 
and  turn  pale,  as  they  realized  the  truth  that 
they  were  mortally  wounded.  The  enlisted 
men  were  exceedingly  accurate  judges  of  the 


HO  W  MEN  DIE  IN  BA  TTLE>.  2O/ 

probable  result  which  would  ensue  from  any 
wound  they  saw.  They  had  seen  hundreds  of 
soldiers  wounded,  and  they  had  noticed  that 
certain  wounds  always  resulted  fatally.  They 
knew  when  they  were  fatally  wounded,  and 
after  the  shock  of  discovery  had  passed,  they 
generally  braced  themselves  and  died  in  a  man 
ly  manner.  It  was  seldom  that  an  American 
or  Irish  volunteer  flunked  in  the  presence  of 
death. 


XII. 

EARLY  IN  FRONT  OF  WASHINGTON. 

MY  experience  as  an  enlisted  man  during 
Grant's  last  campaign  ended  when  I 
left  City  Point,  Virginia.  I  write  this  and  the 
succeeding  chapters  to  present  certain  condi 
tions  and  facts  in  the  war,  which  fell  within  my 
personal  experience,  and  which,  I  think,  merit 
permanent  record. 

I  arrived  in  Washington  June  25,  1864,  and 
re-enlisted  in  the  United  States  Army  the  same 
day.  I  spent  six  days  in  my  father's  house, 
sleeping  and  fighting  off  fever.  On  June  3Oth,  I 
was  appointed  Second  Lieutenant  in  the  Fourth 
United  States  Artillery,  and  a  verbal  leave  of 
absence  was  granted  to  me  by  Secretary  of  War 
Stanton,  whom  I  found,  contrary  to  my  expec 
tation,  to  be  a  very  kind  and  pleasant-spoken 
gentleman. 

About  July  1st,  a  rumor  circulated  through 
Washington  that  our  troops  had  met  with  a 
208 


EARLY  IN  FRONT  OF  WASHINGTON.      2OQ 

serious  disaster  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mar- 
tinsburg.  Then  men  whispered  one  to  the 
other  that  a  large  Confederate  army  was  rava 
ging  the  southern  border  of  Pennsylvania,  and 
that  Washington  was  threatened.  There  was 
great  uneasiness  in  the  capitol.  President  Lin 
coln  called  on  the  States  of  New  York,  Pennsyl 
vania,  and  Massachusetts  for  troops  to  aid  in 
repelling  the  invasion.  The  rumors  grew 
thicker  and  thicker,  and  all  of  them  were  un 
favorable  to  the  Union  cause.  The  only  report 
we  could  rely  on  was  that  Early's  corps,  of  the 
Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  had  been  detached 
by  Lee  to  drive  the  Union  forces  out  of  Shen- 
andoah  Valley,  to  ravage  Southern  Pennsyl 
vania,  and  to  capture  the  national  capitol,  if 
possible.  Washington  was  in  an  uproar.  In 
the  morning  we  heard  that  Early  was  at  a  cer 
tain  point.  At  night  he  was  reported  as  being 
fifty  miles  from  there.  To-day  his  army  was 
alleged  to  number  30,000  men.  On  the  morrow, 
pale-faced,  anxious  men  solemnly  asserted  that 
certain  information  had  been  received  at  the 
War  Department  that  at  least  50,000  veteran 
soldiers  were  marching  with  Early.  Late  at 
night  on  July  Qth,  I  was  sitting  in  Willard's 
Hotel.  An  excited  man  walked  rapidly  in  and 


210        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

told  the  group  in  which  I  was  talking,  that  our 
army,  under  General  Lew  Wallace,  had  been 
disastrously  defeated  on  the  Monocacy  by 
Early,  and  that  our  disordered  troops  were  in 
full  retreat  on  Baltimore.  Later  we  heard  that 
Wallace's  army  had  been  annihilated.  Still 
later  that  the  government's  books,  records, 
and  money  were  being  packed  in  boxes  pre 
paratory  to  its  flight  to  New  York.  Almost 
every  man  I  met  that  night  believed  that  the 
Confederate  guns  would  be  thundering  at  the 
capital  in  less  than  twenty-four  hours. 

The  next  morning  the  report  of  our  defeat 
on  the  Monocacy  was  confirmed,  and  the  ex 
citement  in  the  city  grew  more  and  more 
intense.  Men  stood  in  groups  on  street  cor 
ners,  in  hotel  lobbies,  in  newspaper  offices,  and 
in  drinking  saloons,  and  discussed  the  military 
situation.  Officers  rode  furiously  up  and  down 
the  streets,  and  swarmed  around  the  War  De 
partment.  I  began  to  think  that  maybe  Early 
would  make  a  dash  at  Washington.  So  I 
walked  to  the  War  Department  and  reported 
for  duty.  I  was  greatly  astonished  at  the 
authentic  news  I  heard.  War  Department 
officials  told  me  that  General  Auger,  who  had 
command  of  the  troops  at  Washington,  did  not 


EARLY  IN  FRONT  OF  WASHINGTON.      211 

have  5,000  stanch,  veteran  soldiers  with  which 
to  defend  the  entire  line,  which  was  about 
thirty  miles  long.  He  had  a  few  loo-day 
men,  a  few  quartermaster  employes,  and  some 
disabled  soldiers,  called  veteran  reserves.  I 
was  assured  that  a  successful  defence  of  the 
city  could  not  be  made,  unless  reinforcements 
speedily  arrived.  Finally  I  was  ordered  to  re 
port  for  duty  to  the  commanding  officer  of 
Battery  A  Fourth  United  States  Artillery,  then 
in  garrison  at  Fort  Totten,  near  Bladensburg. 

Arrived  at  the  fort,  I  found  it  was  command 
ed  by  a  captain  of  a  loo-day  regiment  from  Ohio, 
and  that  the  regular  army  artillerists  were 
under  his  orders.  This  Ohio  captain  carried 
matters  with  a  light  hand.  He  was  anxious  to 
be  advised,  and  cheerfully  allowed  the  artillery 
officers  to  do  as  they  thought  best  in  all  mat 
ters  relative  to  the  defence  of  the  fort.  Battery 
A  was  commanded  by  handsome,  songful  Rufus 
King.  Howard  B.  Gushing,  a  brother  of  the 
"Gettysburg"  and  the  "  Albemarle"  Cushings, 
was  a  second  lieutenant  in  this  battery.  It 
had  been  serving  with  Custer  as  horse  artillery, 
and  had  been  badly  cut  up  in  front  of  Rich 
mond,  and  had  been  sent  to  Washington  for 
rest.  Neither  the  officers  nor  the  men  under- 


212        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

stood  handling  the  large  guns  with  which  the 
fort  was  armed.  On  the  parade  ground  within 
the  fort  were  six  brass  James  guns.  We  quickly 
decided  to  use  these  in  the  threatened  battle. 
The  magazine  was  opened.  Barrels  of  powder 
were  brought  out  and  rolled  up  and  down,  and 
placed  in  the  sunshine  to  thoroughly  dry. 
Shot  and  shell  and  stands  of  grape  were 
brought  out,  and  all  hands  made  cartridges  for 
the  loo-pound  Parrotts,  and  assorted  the  am 
munition  for  the  James  guns,  which  were 
placed  in  position  on  the  side  of  the  fort  which 
we  expected  to  be  attacked. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  July  loth,  word  was 
sent  to  us  from  Washington  that  Early  was 
marching  with  his  entire  army  on  the  capital, 
and  that  he  was  then  near  Rockville.  That 
evening  the  motliest  crowd  of  soldiers  I  ever  saw 
came  straggling  out  from  Washington  to  man  the 
rifle-pits  which  connected  the  forts.  This  force 
was  composed  of  quartermaster's  employe's, 
clerks  from  the  War,  Navy,  and  State  depart 
ments,  convalescents  from  the  military  hospi 
tals,  and  veteran  reserves,  the  latter  clad  in 
the  disheartening,  sickly  uniform  of  pale  blue, 
which  was  the  distinctive  dress  of  that  corps. 
(The  Confederates  aptly  characterized  these 


EARLY  IN  FRONT  OF  WASHINGTON.      2 


disabled  soldiers  as  "  Condemned  Yankees.") 
There  was  little  order  or  discipline  among  these 
pretended  soldiers.  The  sturdy  Irishmen  who 
manned  our  guns  and,  who  had  been  forged  into 
perfect  soldiers  by  "Gettysburg"  Gushing, 
gazed  at  them  with  open-eyed  astonishment. 
They  gabbled,  and  were  evidently  trying  to 
keep  up  their  courage  by  talking  loudly  and 
boastfully  of  their  determination  to  hold  the 
rifle-pits  at  all  hazards.  I  smiled  sorrowfully 
as  I  thought  of  the  ease  with  which  the  Con 
federates,  veterans  of  twenty  pitched-battles, 
would  drive  them  out  of  their  earthworks. 
The  loo-day  men  who  were  in  the  fort  were 
somewhat  nervous  ;  but  they  meant  to  fight, 
and  when  they  had  been  warmed  in  battle  fire, 
and  men  had  begun  to  fall,  they  undoubtedly 
would  have  fought  stanchly. 

That  night,  King,  Gushing,  and  I  slept  on 
the  top  of  the  magazine,  and  the  cannoneers 
slept  on  the  ground  by  their  guns.  Early  the 
next  morning  we  saw  that  a  signal-station  had 
been  established  on  the  top  of  the  Soldiers' 
Home,  and  that  officers  of  the  signal  corps 
were  furiously  waving  flags  to  communicate  in 
formation  to  head-quarters.  We  knew  that 
important  news  was  being  waved  through  the 


214        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

air,  but  we  could  not  read  the  signals.  So  we 
began  to  search  through  our  field-glasses  for 
the  Confederate  soldiers.  We  found  them 
soon.  A  body  of  Confederate  cavalry  rode 
aimlessly  to  and  fro  along  the  edge  of  a  wood, 
about  five  miles  from  our  fort.  We  saw  their 
artillery  glisten  in  the  sun.  Soon  smoke  began 
to  rise  in  heavy  columns  behind  them,  and  I 
knew  that  they  were  burning  houses.  That 
afternoon  the  Confederate  infantry  came  in 
sight,  and  formed  a  battle  line.  Portions  of 
this  line  were  within  range  of  some  of  the  forts, 
and  heavy  guns  opened  on  it  away  off  to  our 
left.  This  artillery  practice,  marked  by  the 
bursting  shells,  was  the  poorest  I  ever  saw.  It 
was  evident  that  the  department  clerks  or  the 
loo-day  men  were  serving  the  guns.  The  Con 
federates  did  not  pay  the  slightest  attention  to 
this  fire.  Their  skirmishers,  a  cloud  of  them, 
advanced  a  short  distance  froin  their  main  line, 
and  then  sank  out  of  sight'. 

We  grew  anxious.  I  knew  that  Early,  who 
had  about  eighteen  thousand  veteran  soldiers 
with  him,  could  break  our  line  whenever  he 
saw  fit  to  strike  it.  I  knew  that  he  could 
capture  Washington,  in  two  hours,  if  he  de 
termined  to  take  thfe> national  capital.  How 


EARLY  IN  FRONT  OF   WASHINGTON.      21$ 

we  fumed  and  fretted  !  Before  sunrise  on  July 
1 2th  we  saw  that  Early  *s  men  were  in  motion. 
They  moved  slowly  toward  our  intrenchments, 
with  a  heavy  line  of  skirmishers  preceding  their 
battle  line.  These  skirmishers  drove  our  pick 
ets  before  them  with  great  ease.  The  Con 
federate  battle  line  advanced  until  they  were 
within  long-cannon  range  of  the  forts.  Their 
skirmishers  were  within  rifle  range,  and  Con 
federate  bullets  occasionally  sang  above  us. 
Many  heavy  guns  opened  on  the  battle  line. 
It  halted,  and  the  men  lay  down  in  the  grass, 
among  bushes,  and  behind  buildings.  Ammu 
nition  was  in  plentiful  supply  in  Fort  Totten, 
and  we  manned  three  one-hundred-pound  Par- 
rott  guns,  and  wasted  a:  ton  of  shells  to  get  the 
range  and  to  burn  a  few  vision-obscuring  houses 
which  stood  on  the  ground  over  which  we  ex 
pected  the  charge  to  be  made.  Through  our 
glasses  we  could  see  the  disposition  of  Early's 
troops.  We  three  young  artillery  officers  sat 
on  the  magazine  and  studied  his  line.  We 
speedily  saw  that  his  troops  were  not  formed 
in  charging  column  ;  saw  that  there  was  no  re 
serve  ;  saw  that  there  was  no  eager  hurrying  to 
and  fro  of  soldiers  ;  saw  that  there  was  no  pre 
paratory  bustle  ;  saw,  that  though  the  Confed- 


2l6        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

erate  skirmishers  were  far  in  advance  of  the 
main  line,  they  were  not  pushing  our  pickets, 
and  were  not  firing  with  earnestness.  Evident 
ly  there  was  to  be  no  serious  fighting  that  morn 
ing.  We  continued  to  shell  the  Confederate 
line  without  a  particle  of  effect,  unless  to  excite 
the  contempt  of  veteran  soldiers. 

Toward  evening  General  Auger  drew  a  heavy 
body  of  troops  from  our  thin  defensive  line, 
and  sent  them  out  to  feel  of  Early's  men. 
Naturally  the  latter  objected  to  being  felt  of. 
So  they  promptly  killed  and  wounded  three 
hundred  of  Auger's  men.  These  having  had 
enough  of  dallying  with  savage-tempered  and 
veteran  Confederate  infantry,  skurried  back  to 
our  intrenchments. 

Next  morning  opened  with  a  heavy  fire  from 
the  forts  to  our  left,  and  more  houses  were 
burned.  The  position  of  the  Confederate 
pickets,  marked  by  rifle  flashes  and  tiny  puffs  of 
powder-smoke,  was  apparently  unchanged  ;  but 
their  main  line  had  been  drawn  back  to  the  shel 
ter  of  the  woods.  We  were  anxiously  debating 
the  question  :  "  Is  Early  forming  his  soldiers 
into  a  charging  column  ?  "  when  we  heard  a 
clatter  of  galloping  horses,  and  a  signal  corps  of 
ficer  and  two  enlisted  men  rode  up  to  the  gate  of 


EARLY  IN  FRONT  OF  WASHINGTON.      21? 

the  fort  and  demanded  admittance.  Admitted, 
they  clambered  on  to  the  magazine.  Eager  for 
news,  we  assailed  the  officer  with  questions. 
He  told  us  that  the  Union  people  in  Washing 
ton  had  been  panic-stricken  ;  that  the  govern 
ment  had  been  ready  to  leave  the  city ;  that 
the  money  and  books  had  been  packed  prepara 
tory  to  shipment  north  ;  that  the  majority  of 
the  masculine  portion  of  the  entire  city  had  got 
wildly  drunk  and  kept  so ;  and  that  the  Sixth 
Corps  was  coming  up  the  Potomac  River  to  the 
defence  of  Washington.  He  began  to  wave  his 
flags.  The  signal  flags  on  top  of  the  Soldiers' 
Home  waved  back  in  answer,  and  as  they  waved 
the  signal  officer  slowly  read  out  the  message, 
word  by  word  :  "  Transports  loaded  with  troops 
in  sight."  About  seven  o'clock  the  flags  which 
were  on  top  of  the  Soldiers'  Home  waved  brisk 
ly.  The  signal  corps  officer  answered  an  in 
quiring  look  by  reading  aloud  :  "  Sixth  Corps 
disembarking.  Troops  marching  for  the  front." 
Now  we  were  as  anxious  for  Early  to  assault 
our  works,  as  we  had  been  fearful  of  his  doing 
so  the  previous  day.  We  had  the  Sixth  Corps, 
stanch,  determined  fighters,  at  our  backs.  We 
were  no  longer  fearful  of  our  supports  running 
away  in  panic.  Again  the  flags  waved.  Again 


2l8        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A    PRIVATE. 

the  signal  officer  read  to  us  :  "  Infantry  turned 
into  Seventh  Street.  All  troops  marching  to 
the  front."  I  could  have  hugged  that  signal 
corps  officer.  He  rolled  up  his  flags,  bade  us 
good  day,  and  smilingly  said :  "  Gentlemen, 
you  are  saved  from  the  mortification  of  losing 
your  fort.  And,  thank  God!  Washington  is 
saved  from  capture."  He  turned,  mounted  his 
horse,  and  rode  out  of  the  fort. 

Down  the  road,  away  past  the  Soldiers' 
Home,  we  heard  faint  strains  of  martial  music. 
Then  we  saw  a  column  of  dust  rising.  It  rose 
high  above  the  trees,  high  above  the  houses. 
Then  its  head  was  thrust  into  sight,  a  few  dust- 
obscured  officers  riding  in  advance,  the  dust 
sloping  upward  and  backward  from  them.  Close 
behind  them  came  a  large  banner,  blazoned 
with  a  great  crimson  cross.  It  was  the  flag  of 
the  First  Division  of  the  Sixth  Corps.  Clouds 
of  dust  rolled  heavily  upward,  almost  obscuring 
it  at  times,  but  I  watched  it  intently,  and  my 
throat  filled,  and  my  heart  thumped.  The  Con 
federate  skirmishers  disappeared.  The  Sixth 
Corps  marched  on  to  the  battle-ground,  formed 
line,  and,  preceded  by  hundreds  of  skirmishers, 
advanced.  Alas,  too  late  !  The  last  Confed 
erates  had  hastened  after  their  leader,  and 


EARLY  IN  FRONT  OF   WASHINGTON.     .219 

were  well    on    their  way  to    the    Shenandoah 
Valley. 

Could  Early  have  captured  Washington  on 
June  ii— 12,  1864?  I  unhesitatingly  answer, 
yes.  I  supplement  this  by  saying  that  he  could 
have  taken  the  city  without  losing  more  than 
one  thousand  men.  But  if  he  had  taken  it,  his 
poorly  clad,  poorly  fed,  impoverished  men 
would  inevitably  have  gone  to  plundering, 
would  inevitably  have  gotten  drunk  and  stayed 
drunk,  and  he  would  have  lost  his  entire  army. 


XIII. 

THE   MILITARY   PRISON   AT   ELMIRA. 

AFTER  General  Early  had  withdrawn  his 
soldiers  from  the  front  of  Washington, 
Battery  A  Fourth  United  States  Artillery 
joined  the  artillery  reserve  then  lying  in  Camp 
Barry,  near  Washington.  Life  in  Camp  Barry 
was  exceedingly  monotonous,  and  enlisted  men 
and  officers  alike  were  impatient  to  be  ordered 
to  active  service.  There  was  joy  in  the  camp, 
one  afternoon  in  late  fall,  when  an  order  came, 
directing  the  commanding  officer  of  Battery 
A  to  go  at  once  to  Elmira,  New  York,  with 
a  section  of  artillery,  and  to  report  for  duty 
to  the  commanding  officer  of  that  post.  The 
senior  lieutenant,  Rufus  King,  was  absent  on 
leave.  Lieutenant  Cushing,  eager  to  get  out 
of  Washington,  ordered  me  to  get  a  section 
in  marching  order.  I  did  so,  and  we  marched 
to  the  railroad  station,  and  loaded  the  guns, 
caissons,  and  horses  on  the  cars,  and  left  Wash- 

220 


THE  MILITARY  PRISON  AT  ELM  IRA.       221 

ington   in   less  than  two  hours  after  receiving 
the  order. 

We  had  heard  that  the  Confederate  soldiers 
who  were  confined  in  the  military  prison  at  El- 
mira  were  somewhat  unruly,  and  next  day,  when 
we  reported  for  duty  to  a  loo-day  colonel,  we 
were  not  surprised  to  hear  that  the  prisoners 
were  insubordinate,  and  that  an  outbreak  was 
imminent.  We  marched  the  battery  to  the  mili 
tary  prison.  There  we  found  about  twelve  thou 
sand  Confederate  prisoners,  who  were  confined 
in  a  large  stockade,  inside  of  which  were  many 
barracks,  and  through  which  the  Chemung 
River  flowed.  The  stockade,  made  of  logs  set 
deeply  in  the  ground  on  end  and  standing  side 
by  side,  was  about  twelve  feet  high.  About 
four  feet  below  the  top  of  the  stockade,  on  the 
outside,  was  a  platform,  guarded  by  a  handrail, 
which  extended  around  the  prison.  This  plat 
form  was  studded  by  sentry-boxes  at  short  in 
tervals.  On  it  sentinels  walked  to  and  fro,  day 
and  night,  and  watched  the  prisoners.  During 
the  night  they,  at  half  hour  intervals,  loudly 
called  the  number  to  their  post,  and  announced 
that  all  was  well.  It  was  almost  dark  when  we 
arrived  at  the  prison,  and  we  parked  the  guns 
in  an  open  space  near  the  stockade.  Around 


222        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

us  were  many  camps,  which  were  occupied 
by  disorderly,  undrilled  loo-day  men.  We 
speedily  discovered  that  there  was  a  lack 
of  discipline  in  the  prison.  The  Confederates 
were  ugly-tempered  and  rebellious.  That  night 
they  gathered  ih  mobs,  and  the  Confederate 
charging-yell  rang  out  clearly.  They  threw 
stones  at  the  sentinels.  They  refused  to  go 
into  their  barracks.  Evidently  they  knew  that 
the  men  who  guarded  them  were  not  soldiers. 
The  uproar  increased  in  volume.  I  was  con 
fident  that  the  prisoners  intended  to  break  out 
that  night.  Our  guns  were  placed  in  battery, 
and  the  ammunition  chests  opened.  We  wait 
ed,  and  waited,  and  waited,  and  finally  I  rode 
over  to  an  infantry  camp  in  search  of  informa 
tion,  and  there  found  a  loo-day  colonel,  who 
was  playing  cribbage  with  a  sergeant.  I  asked 
the  meaning  of  the  uproar  in  the  prison,  and 
the  colonel  said,  indifferently :  "  Oh,  that  is 
nothing  !  They  generally  make  twice  as  much 
noise,"  and  he  continued  to  move  his  pegs  up 
and  down  the  cribbage-board.  I  returned  to 
camp  greatly  disgusted. 

The  next  day  Cushing  and  I  went  into  the 
prison,  and  after  carefully  examining  it,  con 
cluded  that  if  an  attempt  to  break  guard  was 


THE  MILITARY  PRISON  AT  ELM  IRA.       223 

made  it  would  be  directed  against  the  point 
where  the  river  left  the  stockade.  As  we* 
walked  slowly  around  the  prison,  groups  of 
Confederates  looked  curiously  at  us  and  talked 
insultingly  about  us.  One  crowd  of  men  fol 
lowed  us  to  the  river  bank  and  jeered  us  as  we  in 
spected  the  stockade  there.  Gushing  lost  his 
temper  and  turned  savagely  to  face  them,  and 

said  in  a  low,  clear  voice  :  "  See  here, ! 

I  am  just  up  from  the  front,  where  I  have  been 
killing  such  infernal  wretches  as  you  are.  I  have 
met  you  in  twenty  battles.  I  never  lost  a  gun 
to  you.  You  never  drove  a  battery  I  served 
with  from  its  position.  You  are  a  crowd  of  in 
solent,  cowardly  scoundrels,  and  if  I  had  com 
mand  of  this  prison  I  would  discipline  you, 
or  kill  you,  and  I  should  much  prefer  to  kill 
you.  I  have  brought  a  battery  of  United 
States  artillery  to  this  pen,  and  if  you  will 
give  me  occasion  I  will  be  glad  to  dam  that 
river,"  pointing  to  the  Chemung,  "with  your 
worthless  carcasses,  and  silence  your  insolent 
tongues  forever.  I  fully  understand  that  you 
are  presuming  on  your  position  as  prisoners  of 
war  when  you  talk  to  me  as  you  have  ;  but," 
and  here  his  hand  shook  warningly  in  the  faces 
of  the  group,  "  you  have  reached  the  end  of 


224        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

your  rope  with  me.  I  will  kill  the  first  man  of 
you  who  again  speaks  insultingly  to  me  while  I 
am  in  this  pen,  and  I  shall  be  here  daily.  Now, 
go  to  your  quarters."  And  they  went.  We  re 
turned  to  our  camp,  moved  the  guns  to  a  posi 
tion  which  commanded  the  river,  and  then  rear 
ranged  the  ammunition,  putting  all  the  canister 
in  the  chests  of  the  gun  limbers.  And  then  we 
waited  for  the  expected  outbreak. 

A  military  prison,  it  matters  not  what  people 
keep  it,  is  not  a  place  where  life  is  enjoyed. 
The  prisoners  are  enemies,  and  their  keepers 
care  but  little  for  their  lives  or  comfort.  It 
is  probable  that  we  fed  the  Confederate  pris 
oners  better  than  they  fed  Union  prisoners. 
Personally  I  know  nothing  of  life  in  Confed 
erate  military  prisons,  as  I  was  not  captured.  I 
saw  many  thousands  of  our  soldiers  shortly  after 
they  were  exchanged.  By  far  the  larger  portion 
of  these  men  were  in  good  condition  and  fit  for 
service.  It  is  true  that  many  of  them  were  dis 
eased  and  almost  dead  when  they  were  deliv 
ered  to  us,  and  these  soldiers  were  grouped  and 
photographed,  very  unfairly  I  think,  and  the 
illustrated  papers  which  reproduced  these  pho 
tographs  were  widely  circulated  throughout  the 
Northern  States.  I  met  no  Union  soldier  who 


THE  MILITARY  PRISON  AT  ELM  IRA.       22$ 

had  been  confined  in  a  Confederate  military 
prison,  who  thought  it  to  be  a  pleasant  re 
treat  ;  and  I  know  that  the  military  prison  at 
Elmira  was  a  place  to  be  avoided  by  men  of 
good  taste.  The  prisoners,  it  was  alleged,  were 
allowed  the  same  rations,  excepting  coffee  and 
sugar,  that  their  guards  received.  They  did 
not  get  it.  I  repeatedly  saw  the  Confederate 
prisoners  draw  their  provisions,  and  they  never 
got  more  than  two  thirds  rations.  Many  of 
them  were  diseased,  many  were  slightly  wound 
ed,  many  were  feeble  and  worn  out  with  cam 
paigning  in  Virginia,  and  many  more  were 
home-sick ;  and  these  men  died  as  sheep  with 
the  rot.  Almost  daily  a  wagon  piled  high  with 
pine  coffins/ entered  the  stockade,  and  these 
coffins  were  filled  with  dead  Confederates. 
The  sound  men,  the  men  of  vigorous  con 
stitution,  and  those  possessing  aggressive 
minds,  endured  prison  life  without  suffering 
greatly  ;  and  this  I  suspect  was  true  of  Union 
soldiers  confined  in  Confederate  prisons.  The 
winter  of  1864—65  was  exceedingly  cold.  The 
Confederate  prisoners,  thinly  clad,  enfeebled 
by  campaigning,  and  further  weakened  by  in 
sufficient  supplies  of  food,  were  unable  to  en 
dure  the  cold  of  a  Northern  winter.  They 


226        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

died  by  the  hundred.  They  were  mentally 
depressed,  and  the  inevitable  result  followed. 
Their  wounds  became  gangrenous  and  they 
died ;  they  were  home-sick  and  they  died ;  they 
contracted  pneumonia  and  died.  Fever  stalked 
among  them  and  struck  hundreds  of  them 
down.  Bowel  disorders  carried  off  other  hun 
dreds.  I  have  seen  groups  of  battle-worn,  home 
sick  Confederates,  their  thin  blankets  drawn 
tightly  around  their  shoulders,  stand  in  the  lee 
of  a  barrack  for  an  hour  without  speaking  to 
one  another.  They  stood  motionless  and  gazed 
into  one  another's  haggard  faces  with  despairing 
eyes.  There  was  no  need  to  talk,  as  all  topics 
of  conversation  had  long  since  been  exhausted. 
The  majority  of  the  prisoners  were  exceed 
ingly  ignorant.  Many  of  them  could  not  read 
or  write.  I  often  admired  the  military  skill 
displayed  by  the  Confederate  officers  in  forging 
these  ignorant  men  into  the  almost  perfect 
soldiers  they  were.  The  discipline  in  the  Con 
federate  armies  must  have  been  exceedingly 
severe  to  have  enabled  their  officers  to  control 
these  reckless,  savage-tempered  men.  The 
prisoners  at  Elmira  were  exclusively  Ameri 
cans.  I  did  not  see  a  foreign-born  citizen  in 
that  prison.  These  soldiers  were  penniless. 


THE  MILITARY  PRISON  AT  ELMIRA.       22/ 

They  could  not  buy  clothing  or  articles  of  prime 
necessity.  They  were  eager  to  work,  to  earn 
money  to  buy  tobacco.  On  pleasant  days  a 
few  hundred  of  them  were  employed  outside 
the  stockade  in  digging  ditches  and  trenches 
which  were  never  used.  For  this  work  they 
were  paid  about  twenty-five  cents  per  day, 
which  sum  they  promptly  invested  in  tobacco. 
I  have  seen  the  prisoners  display  as  much 
eagerness  to  secure  this  employment,  as  free 
men  would  to  secure  remunerative  positions 
of  trust.  And  they  worked  faithfully  and 
honestly,  and  earned  their  scanty  pay.  Thinly 
clad,  with  their  blankets  wound  around  them 
instead  of  overcoats,  poorly  fed,  hopeless,  these 
unfortunate  soldiers  swung  heavy  picks,  and 
bent  low  over  their  shovels,  as  the  cold  wind 
swept  through-  their  emaciated  frames  as 
through  a  sieve.  It  was  pitiful  to  see  the 
poverty-stricken  Confederates  breaking  the 
hard,  frost-bound  earth,  while  armed  sentinels 
passed  to  and  fro  about  them,  and  a  battery  of 
artillery  moved  swiftly  over  the  frozen  plain  in 
menacing  drill. 

Outside  of  the  stockade,  and  on  the  other 
side  of  the  road,  two  tall  wooden  towers  had 
been  built  by  some  enterprising  Yankees.  The 


228        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

owners  of  these  buildings  made  a  profitable 
show  of  the  Confederate  prisoners.  Daily  their 
tops  were  thronged  with  curious  spectators, 
who  paid  ten  cents  each  to  look  into  the  prison 
pen.  A  few  weeks  after  these  towers  were 
built,  I  noticed  that  a  young  and  handsome 
woman  visited  one  of  them  daily,  and  waved 
her  handkerchief  frequently.  It  was  evident 
to  me  that  she  was  communicating  with  the 
prisoners,  probably  to  her  friends  or  relatives 
who  were  confined  in  the  stockade.  One  night 
seven  or  eight  Confederates  escaped  from  the 
prison  by  crawling  through  a  tunnel  that  they 
had  dug,  and  were  seen  no  more.  I  was 
exceedingly  glad  that  these  men  had  escaped. 
The  young  woman  disappeared  also.  Then  I 
reported  what  I  had  seen,  and  the  towers  were 
closed  by  military  orders. 

One  night  the  uproar  in  the  stockade  was 
terrific.  A  rifle  shot  rang  out  clearly.  I  heard 
a  sentinel  on  post  call  for  the  officer  of  the 
guard.  The  long  roll  sounded  in  the  infantry 
camps.  The  noise  of  infantry  falling  into  line 
hummed  in  the  air.  The  night  was  intensely 
dark.  I  stood  in  the  door  of  my  tent  listening 
to  the  uproar  in  the  Confederate  pen.  I  judged 
that  the  prisoners  were  divided  into  two  groups ; 
one  standing  by  the  river  bank,  the  other  near 


THE  MILITARY  PRISON  AT  ELM  IRA.       2  29 

the  gate.  Both  groups  were  yelling  at  the  top 
of  their  voices.  Some  of  the  soldiers  of  the 
regular  brigade,  which  had  been  sent  from  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  to  assist  in  guarding  the 
prisoners,  were  on  duty  that  night.  And  I 
heard  these  cool  veterans  caution  the  Con 
federates  not  to  cross  the  dead-line,  and  to  re 
peatedly  tell  them  to  stand  back  or  they  would 
fire  on  them.  Another  shot  rang  out  clearly. 
My  battery  bugler,  a  Jew,  named  Samuels, 
came  to  me,  bugle  in  hand.  "  Blow  Boots  and 
Saddles,"  I  said.  Instantly  the  artillery  camp 
was  alive.  Half-dressed  men  sprang  to  the 
guns,  horses  were  harnessed  and  saddled.  I 
called  an  old  sergeant  to  me  and  said  :  "  Trail 
No.  2  gun  on  the  stockade  near  the  river, 
and  if  the  prisoners  break  out,  dose  the  head 
of  the  column  with  double  canister  until  they 
run  over  your  gun.  Fire  a  blank  cartridge 
to  summon  Lieutenant  Gushing  and  the  en 
listed  men,  who  are  in  town,  to  the  battery. 
I  will  take  No.  I  gun  close  to  the  stock 
ade  and  smash  the  flank  of  the  column  to 
flinders  if  it  comes  out.  I  will  burn  a  lantern 
by  the  gun  so  as  to  mark  my  position."  The 
sergeant  moved  off  in  the  darkness.  I  saw  the 
flash  of  his  gun,  heard  a  shot  scream  close 
above  my  head,  and  then  heard  the  crash  of 


230        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

timber  as  the  shot  tore  through  a  barrack,  and 
this  was  followed  by  cries  of  alarm.  I  heard 
the  Confederates  cry :  "  Look  out,  the  artillery 
has  opened !  "  Instantly  the  uproar  ceased. 
The  great  prison  was  as  silent  as  death,  and 
instantly  I  knew  I  was  in  a  scrape,  and  would 
probably  be  court-martialed  for  firing  on  the 
prisoners.  Out  of  town  came  Gushing,  his 
hor.se  in  a  lather.  I  explained  to  him  what 
had  happened.  He  looked  soberly  at  me  for 
an  instant,  and  then  said  :  "  You  will  be  court- 
martialed,  sure.  You  must  get  to  your  own 
battery  at  once  (I  belonged  to  Battery  H),  and 
get  off  before  the  loo-day  officers  prefer  charges 
against  you.  Then  we  can  talk  them  out  of 
it."  An  officer  from  head-quarters  rode  up  and 
complained  bitterly  of  the  outrage  of  firing  on 
the  prisoners.  From  him  we  learned  that  it 
was  a  stone  instead  of  a  shot  that  had  been 
fired  into  the  prison.  Early  the  next  morning 
I  left  Elmira,  having  been  ordered  by  a  speedily 
procured  telegram  to  join  Battery  H,  Fourth 
United  States  Artillery,  in  the  department  of 
the  Cumberland.  I  afterwards  learned  that  a 
few  Confederates  were  wounded  by  splinters 
when  the  stone  struck  the  barrack,  and  that  they 
never  again  made  night  hideous  by  their  yells 
and  howls. 


XIV. 

IN   THE   SOUTHWEST. 

WHEN  I  arrived  at  Nashville,  Tennessee, 
I  was  told  that  my  battery  was  at  the 
front,  probably  near  Stevenson,  Alabama.  I 
went  to  that  town,  and  there  met  Lieutenant 
John  Stevenson,  Fourth  United  States  Artil 
lery,  whose  temper  was  as  sunny  as  his  hair, 
and  he  told  me  that  my  battery  was  with  the 
Fourth  Corps,  then  marching  on  Huntsville, 
Alabama,  but  that  trie  corps  could  not  possibly 
arrive  there  for  two  or  three  days.  Stevenson 
invited  me  to  stay  with  him  for  a  day,  and  I 
accepted  his  invitation. 

At  Stevenson  there  was  a  large  refugee 
camp,  where  many  women  and  children  and  a 
few  crippled  or  age-enfeebled  men  had  sought 
refuge  from  attacks  by  murderous  bands  of 
guerrillas.  The  camp  had  probably  been  aban 
doned  when  Hood  swept  north  with  his  army, 
and  the  refugees  had  sought  shelter  and  food 
231 


232        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

as  best  they  could.  Hood's  army  went  to 
pieces  after  being  defeated  at  Nashville,  and 
the  refugees  again  gathered  at  Stevenson. 
Guerrillas  infested  the  southern  highlands. 
These  pretended  soldiers,  it  mattered  not 
which  uniform  they  disgraced  by  wearing, 
were,  almost  without  exception,  robbers  and 
murderers,  who  sought  to  enrich  themselves  by 
plundering  their  defenceless  neighbors.  They 
rode  through  the  southern  highlands,  killing 
men,  burning  houses,  stealing  cattle  and  horses. 
To-day  a  band  of  guerrillas,  alleged  Unionists, 
ravaged  a  mountain  district.  They  killed  their 
personal  enemies,  whom  they  said  were  Con 
federate  sympathizers,  and  destroyed  their 
property.  To-morrow  other  guerrillas  burned 
Union  men's  houses,  and  shot  so-called  Union 
men  to  death.  This  relentless,  mountain  war 
fare  was  exceedingly  hard  on  women  and  chil 
dren.  Agriculture  was  suspended  in  the  high 
lands.  No  man  dared  to  till  his  lean  fields  for 
fear  that  some  hidden  enemy  might  kill  him. 
No  stack  of  unthrashed  grain  or  garner  of  corn 
Avas  safe  from  the  torch.  The  defenceless 
women  and  children  were  starved  out  of  their 
homes,  and  they  sought  safety  and  food  within 
the  Union  lines.  Our  government  established 


IJV  THE  SOUTHWEST.  233 

extensive  camps  for  these  war-stricken  South 
erners. 

Curious  to  see  these  people  I  spent  a  day  in 
camp  at  Stevenson.  I  saw  hundreds  of  tall, 
gaunt,  frouzy-headed,  snuff-dipping,  pipe-smok 
ing,  unclean  women.  Some  were  clad  in  home 
spun  stuffs,  others  in  calico,  others  in  bagging. 
Many  of  them  were  unshod.  There  were  hun 
dreds  and  hundreds  of  vermin-infested  and  su 
premely  dirty  children  in  the  camp.  Some 
families  lived  in  tents,  some  in  flimsy  barracks. 
All  lived  in  discomfort.  All  drew  rations  from 
the  government.  All  were  utterly  poor.  It 
seemed  that  they  were  too  poor  to  ever  again 
get  a  start  in  life.  Haggard,  wind-  and  sun- 
and  storm-burnt  women,  their  gaunt  forms 
showing  plainly  through  their  rags,  sat,  or 
lolled,  or  stood  in  groups,  talking  drawlingly. 
Their  features  were  as  expressionless  as  wood, 
their  eyes  lustreless.  I  talked  to  many  of 
these  women.  All  told  stories  of  murder,  of 
arson,  of  blood-curdling  scenes.  One,  gray- 
eyed,  bony,  square-jawed,  barefooted,  forty 
years  old,  clad  in  a  dirty,  ragged,  homespun 
dress,  sat  on  a  log  outside  of  a  tent  sucking  a 
corn-cob  pipe.  Her  tow-headed  children  played 
around  her.  She  told  me  that  before  the  war 


234        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

she  and  her  husband  owned  a  mountain  farm, 
where  they  lived  in  comfort  ;  that  they  owned 
horses,  cattle,  and  pigs,  and  raised  plenty  of 
corn  and  tobacco.  One  day  her  husband,  who 
was  a  Union  man,  was  shot  dead  as  he  stood 
by  her  side  in  the  door  of  their  house.  She 
buried  him  in  a  grave  she  dug  herself.  She  and 
her  children  tended  the  crops.  These  were 
burned  shortly  after  they  gathered  them.  Then 
her  swine  were  stolen,  and  her  cows  and  horse 
driven  off.  Finally  her  oldest  son,  a  boy  of 
fourteen,  was  shot  dead  at  the  spring,  and  her 
house  and  barn  were  burned  in  broad  daylight, 
and  she  and  her  children  were  left  homeless  and 
without  food  on  a  desolate  mountain  side. 
Many  of  her  neighbors  had  been  burned  out 
the  same  day.  They  joined  forces  and  wan 
dered  down  the  mountain,  hungry,  cold,  with 
little  children  tugging  at  women's  dresses,  to  a 
Union  camp.  From  there  they  had  been  sent 
to  Stevenson.  Long  before  this  woman  had 
finished  her  story  she  rose  to  her  feet,  her  face 
was  white  with  intense  passion,  her  eyes  blazed 
with  fire,  and  her  gaunt  form  quivered  with  ex 
citement  as  she  gesticulated  savagely.  She 
said  that  if  she  lived,  and  her  boys  lived,  that 
she  would  have  vengeance  on  the  men  who  had 


IN   THE   SOUTHWEST.  2$$ 

murdered  her  husband  and  son,  and  destroyed 
her  home.  As  she  talked  so  talked  all.  These 
women  were  saturating  their  children's  minds 
with  the  stories  of  the  wrongs  they  had  endured. 
I  heard  them  repeat  over  and  over  to  their 
children  the  names  of  men  which  they  were 
never  to  forget,  and  whom  they  were  to  kill 
when  they  had  sufficient  strength  to  hold  a 
rifle.  The  stolid  manners,  the  wooden  faces, 
the  lustreless  eyes,  the  drawling  speech  of  these 
people,  concealed  the  volcanoes  of  fire  and 
wrath  which  burned  within  their  breasts.  One 
woman  dramatically  described  the  death  of  her 
husband.  The  puff  of  powder  smoke  curling 
above  the  clump  of  laurel,  the  reeling  man  with 
blood  gushing  from  his  mouth,  the  digging  of  his 
grave,  the  midnight  burial, — all  were  pictured. 
These  women,  who  had  been  driven  from  their 
homes  by  the  most  savage  warfare  our  country 
has  been  cursed  with,  knew  what  war  was,  and 
they  impressed  me  as  living  wholly  to  revenge 
their  wrongs.  It  was  easy  to  foresee  the  years 
of  bloodshed,  of  assassination,  of  family  feuds, 
that  would  spring  from  the  recollections  of  the 
war,  handed  from  widowed  mothers  to  savage- 
tempered  sons,  in  the  mountain  recesses  of 
Georgia,  Tennessee,  Alabama,  and  Kentucky. 


236        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVATE. 

And  long  after  the  war  closed  rifles  continued 
to  crack  in  remote  mountain  glens,  as  the  open 
accounts  between  families  were  settled. 

I  started  for  Huntsville  the  next  morning. 
The  railroad  was  dilapidated.  Tiny  columns  of 
mud  spouted  in  the  air  as  the  wheels  rolled  over 
the  splintered  rails.  The  train  consisted  of  open 
and  box  cars,  which  were  loaded  with  veteran 
soldiers  returning  to  their  commands.  These 
soldiers  were  almost  without  exception  Ameri 
cans,  and  were  reckless  and  apparently  indiffer 
ent  to  danger.  Two  or  three  piles  of  clay  were 
thrown  on  each  car,  and  the  men  tramped  it  into 
rough  hearths,  about  a  foot  thick  and  four  feet 
square,  and  built  fires  on  them.  Around  these 
fires  the  soldiers  crowded  to  cook  their  rations. 
At  every  station  the  supply  of  firewood  we  car 
ried  was  added  to.  The  bottom  of  the  cars 
charred  and  holes  were  formed.  I  expected 
the  train  to  catch  fire  and  burn.  The  soldiers 
sang  wild  and  profane  songs,  and  kept  time 
by  sounding  their  ramrods  in  their  musket  bar 
rels,  or  by  softly  tapping  them  with  steel  bay 
onets.  It  begain  to  rain  and  the  wind  blew 
strongly.  These  soldiers,  exposed  to  the  storm 
on  open  cars,  built  their  fires  higher  and  sang 
tunefully  through  it.  They  were  courageous, 


IN   THE   SOUTHWEST. 


imaginative,  reckless  Western  American  volun 
teers,  an  entirely  different  race  of  men  from 
their  Eastern  brothers. 

About  midnight  the  train  halted  at  Paint 
Rock  River  (the  railroad  bridge  which  spanned 
that  stream  had  been  burned  by  guerrillas  the 
previous  night,  and  some  scores  of  army  bridge- 
builders  were  at  work  to  replace  it)  and  the 
soldiers  clambered  off  of  the  cars.  They  built 
fires  on  the  bank  of  the  rapid,  swollen  stream, 
and  then,  without  an  instant's  hesitation,  began 
to  build  a  raft,  on  which  to  cross  the  river.  I 
was  greatly  impressed  by  the  self-reliant  man 
hood  of  these  enlisted  men.  When  the  raft 
was  finished  a  number  of  men  crowded  on  it 
and  poled  it  across  the  river.  Fires  by  which 
to  see  were  built  on  the  other  side.  The  raft 
was  poled  to  and  fro  and  the  troops  were  slow 
ly  ferried  across.  Eager  to  cross,  to  get  near 
to  their  regiments,  they  frequently  overloaded 
the  raft  and  it  sank  deeply  in  the  water.  Then 
the  soldiers  would  spring  ashore  or  fall  into  the 
river,  out  of  which  they  swam,  or  were  pulled 
by  their  comrades.  The  result  was  inevitable. 
On  the  sixth  trip  the  raft  was  loaded  so  heavily 
that  the  water  was  over  the  shoes  of  the  sol 
diers.  It  was  safely  poled  to  the  middle  of  the 


238         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

stream.  There  it  tilted,  and  with  a  howl  the 
soldiers  slid  into  the  water.  Most  of  them 
swam  ashore,  rifle  in  hand,  or  clambered  back 
on  the  raft.  But  I  saw  five  men,  who  were 
heavily  laden  with  cartridges  or  could  not 
swim,  sink  into  the  cold  water  to  be  seen  no 
more.  The  men  who  had  clambered  on  the 
raft  poled  it  back  to  shore  and  called  for  an 
other  cargo,  and  other  men  swarmed  on  to  the 
perilous  craft.  No  one  paid  the  slightest  atten 
tion  to  the  drowned  men.  I  saw  that  I  could 
not  get  across  the  river  for  hours,  so  I  hung  my 
rubber  blanket  over  a  bush  and  sat  under  it  to 
watch  the  scene.  The  wind  had  ceased  to 
blow,  and  the  rain  fell  gently.  Great  fires  of 
logs  and  railroad  ties  burned  brightly.  Scores 
of  bridge-builders  worked  in  torch-relieved 
darkness.  Another  train  loaded  with  troops 
came  up,  and  these  men  rushed  to  the  river's 
bank.  A  thousand  soldiers  were  grouped  at 
the  river,  and  as  they  stood  in  the  rain  they 
sang  "  John  Brown  "  and  kept  time  with  sound 
ing  rifles.  The  two  empty  trains  backed  off. 
Presently  another  train  thundered  down  the 
railroad  track,  and  stopped  on  a  high,  rocky 
embankment  directly  in  front  of  me.  It  was 
loaded  with  escaped  negro  slaves,  who  had  fled 


IN   THE   SOUTHWEST.  239 

from  many  cotton  plantations,  and  who  had 
burdened  themselves  with  plunder  stolen  from 
their  masters'  houses.  The  train  hands,  who 
were  soldiers,  roughly  hustled  the  negroes  from 
the  train  and  carelessly  threw  their  baggage  af 
ter  them.  Trunks,  boxes,  costly  articles  of  fur 
niture,  and  rolls  of  blankets  and  clothing  were 
thrown  down  the  embankment,  rolling,  slowly 
at  first,  then  faster  and  faster,  to  the  bottom. 
Many  trunks  and  boxes  leaped  high  in  the  air 
and  struck  heavily  on  rocks  when  they  de 
scended.  These  burst  open  and  their  con 
tents  were  scattered.  Excited  negroes  chased 
their  boxes  down  the  embankment,  to  be  fright 
ened  and  confused  by  other  boxes  bounding 
past  them.  Black  men  howled  ;  black  women 
screamed  ;  black  babies  cried.  After  the  de 
struction  of  personal  property  had  ceased, 
these  wretched,  rain-soaked  people  gathered 
their  effects  as  best  they  could  and  straggled 
off  into  the  forest.  There  presently  fires 
glowed. 

Next  day  I  arrived  at  Huntsville.  At  head 
quarters  I  was  told  that  my  battery  was  proba 
bly  serving  with  General  Wilson's  cavalry,  and 
that  he  and  General  Thomas  were  supposed  to 
be  somewhere  in  Northern  Mississippi.  I  se- 


240        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

cured  orders  and  transportation,  and  promptly 
started  back  to  Nashville  on  an  open  box  car. 
The  train  stopped  in  a  forest  to  take  on  wood, 
which  was  piled  at  a  side  track.  The  conduc^ 
tor  told  me  that  the  train  would  stay  on  the 
side  track  for  three  or  four  hours.  I  picked  up 
my  blankets,  jumped  off  the  car,  and  walked  in 
to  the  sunny  forest.  The  locomotive's  whistle 
sounded.  The  train  rolled  off.  The  enlisted 
men  jeered  me.  I  was  in  no  hurry,  and  rather 
enjoyed  the  situation.  The  Alabama  woods 
were  pleasant.  I  woujd  wait  for  the  next  train. 
Noon  came.  Late  in  the  afternoon  I  resolved 
to  walk  to  the  next  station,  where  I  knew 
Union  soldiers  were  on  guard.  While  I  was 
at  Huntsville  I  had  learned  that  the  region  I 
was  in  was  infested  with  guerillas,  at  the  head 
of  whom  was  a  murderous  ruffian,  named  Dick 
Cotton.  This  man  was  described  to  be  wholly 
devilish.  It  was  alleged  that  he  murdered  every 
Union  soldier  that  fell  into  his  hands,  and 
that  he  invariably  acted  on  the  maxim  that 
dead  men  tell  no  tales.  As  I  walked  with 
uneven  steps  on  the  ties,  the  stories  I  had 
heard  of  Dick  Cotton  and  his  band  of  murder 
ers  filled  my  brain.  To  my  right  was  a  high, 
precipitous  mountain  range.  The  whole  region 


IN  THE   SOUTHWEST.  241 

seemed  to  be  deserted.  Darkness,  gray  and 
gloomy,  began  to  gather  in  the  forest.  I  heard 
a  flock  of  wild  turkeys  calling  one  another. 
Then  I  saw  them  walk  briskly  among  the  trees. 
Seeing  me  they  ran  swiftly  out  of  sight.  The 
sun  sank  behind  the  mountains.  To  my  right 
I  saw  a  column  of  smoke  rising  out  of  a  ravine. 
I  left  the  railroad  track  and  walked  through 
the  forest  to  the  ravine.  While  walking,  I 
crossed  a  heavy  bridle  path  which  led  up  the 
gulch,  and  presumably  across  the  mountain.  A 
small,  dilapidated  log-house  and  a  few  out 
buildings  stood  in  a  cleared  field  in  the  ravine. 
There  were  neither  dogs  nor  chickens  around 
this  place.  I  walked  slowly  to  the  door  of  the 
house  and  knocked.  A  surly,  gray-haired, 
savage-faced  white  man  opened  it.  Under  his 
left  armpit  was  a  rude  crutch.  He  looked  at 
me  with  fiery  eyes  as  I  stated  my  case,  and 
then  gruffly  bade  me  enter.  A  yellow  negro 
man,  whom  I  saw  was  the  son  of  the  white  man, 
sat  on  the  stool  before  the  fire  cooking  supper. 
The  manner  of  my  host  changed.  He  smiled 
and  talked  and  endeavored  to  simulate  good 
comradeship.  I  instantly  realized  that  I  was  in 
danger.  The  yellow  man  could  not  conceal  his 
hostility.  After  supper  I  heard  a  horse  stamp 


242        RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

in  one  of  the  out-buildings.  My  host  continued 
to  smile  and  talk  of  the  times  before  the  war, 
and  of  his  plantation  in  the  valley  below,  where 
he  had  worked  twenty  slaves  in  productive 
cotton  fields.  He  told  how  they  had  all  run 
away,  excepting  the  boy  (a  broad-shouldered 
man  of  thirty  years)  who  still  served  him  ;  and 
he  prated  about  the  wickedness  of  war,  and  of 
his  gladness  that  it  was  almost  over,  and  the 
useless  shedding  of  fraternal  blood  near  its  end. 
As  he  talked,  his  cruel  black  eyes  gleamed  with 
hostility  and  belied  his  words.  I  turned  to 
speak  to  the  slave,  who  sat  smoking  and  blow 
ing  his  tobacco-smoke  up  the  chimney,  and  saw 
that  he  was  furtively  watching  his  master,  and 
out  of  the  tail  of  my  eye  I  saw  the  white  man 
jerk  his  left  thumb  toward  the  door,  motioning 
to  the  slave  to  go  outside.  Soon  the  negro 
arose  and  went  out,  after  firewood  he  said. 
Presently  my  host  arose,  excused  himself, 
placed  his  crutch  under  his  arm,  and  said  :  "  I 
must  go  see  what  keeps  that  lazy  nigger."  He 
stumped  across  the  floor,  opened  the  door,  and 
went  out,  leaving  the  door  slightly  ajar  behind 
him.  I  walked  softly  across  the  floor  and 
listened  with  keen  ear  at  the  crack.  I  heard 
him  whisper  to  the  slave:  "Charles,  saddle 


IN   THE   SOUTHWEST.  243 

the  mare,  ride  across  the  mountain  and  tell 
Mr.  Cotton  that  there  is  a  —  —  —  Yankee 
artillery  officer  here,  and  tell  him  to  come  get 
him."  That  was  precisely  what  I  had  been  ex 
pecting.  I  drew  my  heavy  revolver,  silently 
cocked  it,  then  threw  the  door  wide  open  and 
instantly  covered  the  typical  Southern  planter 
and  his  yellow  son,  and  said  :  "  Come  in  here, 
you  damned  villains,  or  I  will  kill  both  of  you." 
They  sullenly  re-entered  the  house,  and  sat  on 
two  chairs  in  a  corner  for  the  remainder  of  the 
night,  while  I  sat  by  the  fire.  The  night  was 
long.  Conversation  lagged.  I  thought  morn 
ing  would  never  come.  When  it  did  come  my 
host  and  his  yellow  son  and  I  took  a  walk  be 
fore  breakfast.  They  preceded  me  down  the 
railroad  track  for  two  miles.  There  I  bade 
them  farewell  and  walked  briskly  to  the  next 
station,  where  I  found  a  detachment  of  an 
Illinois  regiment,  which  was  commanded  by  a 
young  sergeant,  who  gave  me  a  welcome  and  a 
breakfast.  I  have  told  this  incident  simply 
to  illustrate  the  feeling  of  the  small  and  igno 
rant  Southern  planters, — men  who  owned  a  few 
slaves,  and  who  knew  that  they  would  be  ruined 
by  the  suppression  of  the  slaveholders'  rebel 
lion. 


244       RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   PRIVA  TE. 

Arrived  at  Nashville  I  was  ordered  to  report 
to  the  chief  of  artillery  of  the  Army  of  the 
Cumberland,  at  Eastport,  Mississippi.  I  went 
to  Paduka,  Kentucky,  and  took  steamer  up  the 
Tennessee  River.  This  boat  was  loaded  with 
provisions  and  soldiers  returning  from  furlough. 
Going  up  the  Tennessee  River  in  a  steamboat 
was  not  as  monotonous  then  as  it  is  now. 
Guerrillas  and  bushwhackers  lurked  in  the 
forests  which  bordered  the  river.  The  pilot 
houses  of  all  boats  which  plied  the  river  were 
protected  with  heavy  boiler-plate  iron  to  keep 
out  Confederate  rifle-balls.  Southern  sympa 
thizers  amused  themselves,  and  served  their 
cause,  by  endeavoring  to  kill  the  pilots  of  the 
steamboats,  so  as  to  wreck  them.  Daily  we 
saw  many  men,  clad  in  homespun,  skulking  in 
the  forest.  They  dodged  from  tree  to  tree. 
They  lay  behind  stumps  and  logs.  They  knew 
the  forest  trails.  They  could  not  be  captured. 
Puffs  of  powder  smoke  would  shoot  forth  from 
behind  trees  or  out  of  dense  thickets,  and  fre 
quently  the  balls  would  enter  the  pilot-house 
through  unprotected  windows  in  front.  The 
pilots  did  not  wince.  They  said  that  they  re 
ceived  large  pay,  and  that  part  of  their  duty 
was  to  serve  as  targets  for  skulking  sharp- 


IN   THE  SOUTHWEST.  24$ 

shooters.  When  unwary  soldiers  exposed  them 
selves,  they  were  promptly  fired  at,  and  occa 
sionally  shot.  Then  their  comrades  would  rush 
on  deck  and  fire  scores  of  shots  at  the  place 
where  the  bushwhacker  was  last  seen.  Present 
ly  there  would  be  a  puff  of  smoke  from  another 
point.  Then  all  the  soldiers  would  shoot  at 
that  point.  Daily  soldiers  were  killed  and 
wounded  on  the  steamer.  I  do  not  believe 
that  a  single  bushwhacker  was  shot,  and  thou 
sands  of  balls  were  shot  at  them.  The  farther 
south  we  went,  the  more  numerous  were  the 
lurking  sharp-shooters. 

I  found  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  at 
Eastport,  and  reported  for  duty.  I  was  amazed 
to  learn  that  my  battery,  H  of  the  Fourth 
Artillery,  had  been  sent  East,  to  Camp  Barry, 
at  Washington,  a  month  before  I  left  Elmira ! 
While  I  was  talking  to  the  chief  of  artillery, 
General  Thomas  entered  the  tent,  and  smiled 
kindly  at  my  rage.  He  ordered  transportation 
to  be  furnished  to  me  from  Eastport  to  Wash 
ington,  and  that  I  be  ordered  there  at  once. 

I  had  travelled  on  an  order  from  Elmira, 
New  York,  by  car,  by  steamer,  on  horseback, 
and  on  foot,  for  thousands  of  miles,  through 
many  States,  searching  for  a  battery  of  artillery 


246         RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A  PRIVATE. 

which  was  all  the  while  at  Washington,  and 
whose  commander  daily  expected  me  to  appear. 
I  never  heard  of  the  War  Department  officials 
being  mistaken  as  to  the  location  of  any  other 
command  during  the  entire  war. 

I  returned  to  Washington,  and  there  saw  the 
great  army  of  volunteers  melt  away.  The  men 
with  whom  I  had  served  had  gone  to  work  in 
the  fields,  in  the  shops,  in  mills,  and  in  factories. 
I  had  no  interest  in  the  regular  army,  no  de 
sire  to  continue  to  loaf  around  barracks,  and  to 
drill  foreign-born  soldiers.  So  I  resigned  my 
commission  and  went  home. 


END 


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